Category Archives: Around Berkeley

Move, please

Holly Doyne Posted on by  

One of the challenges that I am facing four days a week is BART between Civic Center in San Francisco and North Berkeley. It isn’t that I love riding on a crowded system, but rather it is a better alternative than driving back and forth. Part of the joy involves the basic mechanics of getting to and from the subway platforms. Most of the time the escalators are working, except when they are not. Most of the others taking the system are polite, except for those who are just plain rude.

Let me explain:

  1. there are elevators which most of the time are working, bear no relationship to the main portion of the station, and smell like pee at best;
  2. there are escalators which are usually, but not always, in the middle of the platforms and mostly work;
  3. finally there are stairs which connect the platforms with the main portion of the station; and
  4. there are normally all of the above which connect the main portion of the station with the surface of the local neighborhood.

So to get from one level to another you have to pick one of the options. Leaving out elevators which are to be avoided if at all possible, one has to navigate either stairs or escalators. There is the standard custom in Europe which translates to walk on the left, stand on the right. This convention is observed in almost all non-Commonwealth countries some of which may apply this standard in reverse.

It is not a hard concept. Stay on the right if you are not going to walk up if you are on escalator. There is really no great reason to stand on the left. Reading your phone is not an excuse. Making a play for someone in whom you have interest is not an excuse. Placing your luggage or grocery bags at your side rather than in front of you is not an excuse. Any of these are rude and obstruct the flow of those who want to walk up. Why anyone wants to walk is not a concern or needs a comment. It should be sufficient to recognize that someone wants to get by and to allow them to proceed on their way.

Then we come to the stairs. All of the stairs in the BART system have railings on both sides. The railings are there for reasons of safety. They help those of us who need them to haul themselves up, they provide stability for anyone with an unsteady gate, and they help direct the flow of traffic along the sides. NOT DOWN OR UP THE FREAKING MIDDLE. (Emphasis is obviously mine). I don’t mind someone who needs time to get up or down; in fact I can applaud their strength and courage in tackling stairs. I can appreciate anyone who looks at the stairs as a mountain to climb or a chance to burn off a few calories.

What I don’t understand is anyone who needs to walk up (especially) or down a flight of stairs in the middle. Not holding a railing, not keeping to the side, and effectively obstructing completely the flow of foot traffic in both directions. I am exempting anyone with medical/psychiatric reasons for not complying with normal traffic flow. But your average commuter, fixed on their phone, dragging themselves up the stairs while effectively preventing anyone from getting around them.

This morning it was a well-dressed woman with three bags. Since the bags were held in her left hand, there really was no reason for her to hike up the middle of the stairs. She could have used the railing on the right side. She could have even been obnoxious and walked on the left. Instead, she chose to take more than her ½ out of the middle, effectively blocking anyone from below in getting past her on the stairs and forcing the rare person attempting to get to the platform to play skinny statue to the side.

As you can imagine, I had already navigated down at North Berkeley, numerous stops and crowding on the Milbrae BART followed by a scrum on the first set of stairs up from the platform. So my temper was not the best when confronted with someone who obviously wasn’t paying attention to anyone else. I am older, I have grey hair and simply, I didn’t care what she thought of me.

“Excuse me, I need to get past, please.You are completely blocking the stairs.”

(picture the interruption, the angry look followed by glancing behind to see a mass of people including, but not limited to- big, burly people with bicycles.) She actually pulled over at the intermediate platform and started berating me for being rude and not giving due consideration to her age.

I just thanked her for getting out of the way and dashed up the open stairs, laughing because I obviously had 20+ years on her.

Or perhaps I am just cheap

Holly Doyne Posted on by 1

(written while snarling since my original post vanished into the bitbucket or wherever drafts go when WordPress decides it is not going to cooperate. You would think I would learn to copy drafts before hitting the “save the draft” button. Unfortunately that lesson has not yet been learned).

Anyway. I think that I am representative of my generation – at least the European version or the person who lives in a major city. My first thought when going anywhere outside walking distance is to take public transportation. If this is not possible, I will drive. What is not first, second or fifteenth on my list is Lyft/Taxi/Uber. I don’t even think about them. It is not that I haven’t had occasion (a 0600 flight out of SFO for example which is earlier than is possible to safely make on BART. And not being willing to inflict cruel and unusual punishment on a family member by forcing him to drive back through San Francisco during rush hour – which for purposes of anything can assumed to run almost continuously from 0430-2330 Monday through Friday with occasional gasps of total insanity on the weekends when even more fools come out to play) to use them. But I view them as a fall back.

Not so much by the younger generation which views taxis and the private alternates as a routine method of transportation. I can easily understand part of their thinking. When a bus doesn’t go directly, why spend 90 minutes on the bus when the drive takes 13? If you are not eligible for a Senior Discount, the price isn’t going to be that much different if you have to change bus lines (hint, UC Transit doesn’t include transfers on your fare). If you live in the city, you really don’t need to drive. The monthly cost of using public transport and Lyft is going to be less than that of owning a car, even given the limits on convenience.

All of this is explanation of why, after seeing one daughter off to the house of another that I took BART and the #65 home rather than call a Lyft. BART runs, and allegedly the bus does as well. My total cost was under $3 (remember what I said about senior discount?) I am sure that it took longer to get home than if I had taken a Lyft. In fact, I know that since the bus was running late and I didn’t exactly have the jacket and three sweaters than are often needed for a Northern California evening jaunt.

But I arrived safely home, didn’t spend that much. And avoid having a bill to pay at the end of the month.

Turn Signals

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Back we are to a rental beast. Beast being the literal truth as the smallest thing on the lot when George went over was a Jeep SUV. Hello? That is not a small or easy to drive car. Nor, just to add insult to injury is it terribly fuel efficient. Add to that clumsy, difficult to park and stark white and you will start to understand how completely I loath this particular vehicle.

It isn’t a car in which I would feel safe with a new driver as it seems to take more than its fair share of the road. George was the poor person who had to deal with Enterprise this time and has agreed that if it is going to be more than a few days till our car is returned he will take the responsibility for swapping out for something smaller and a bit easier to handle.

What started this rant in my head was the challenge of driving with the standard US driver neither knowing or understanding the use of turn signals. Heaven forbid that you actually provide the driver behind you with a clue as to what you might be considering next. Much less someone coming in the opposite direction. I won’t even bother to describe the California driver and traffic circles (roundabouts for you English driving types). Signal? Who? Why? How?

Argh!

Meanwhile – in other challenges, I have been working my way through all the documents that UCHastings seems to require. Every other minute there is yet another document, paper or mandatory course to complete. Not that I mind TitleIX training, but I have already addressed the fact that training geared toward incoming college freshmen is insulting at best to mature students and incomprehensible to the average foreign student.

Gee, back to my usual mode of being a total PITA. Feels natural, even if it falls under the guise of making the whole experience more appropriate and relevant.

Crunch

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As I was driving home from dropping off daughter #2, I took a variation on my usual route. Not sure why, but that is what I did. Maybe my brain said I was driving back from North Berkeley BART rather from dropping off Dani. In any case, I drove up Cedar rather than Rose. At early in the morning, most of the traffic lights are flashing rather than regular red/green cycles. Depending on the intersection, the change from night to normal happens sometime between 0500 and 0600 on weekdays. And this is a Tuesday, not a holiday.

For whatever reason, as I approached the Cedar/MLK intersection I didn’t completely register the stoplight as having changed. The end result it that a Lyft driver who was turning right interested with my right rear passenger door. No one was injured and his car, from what we could see in the dark, seemed to have only minor scratches on the front grill. Not so my Golf. After exchanging information we both headed on our way. He said he had a passenger to pick up then would check in about a police report. Just to make sure, as soon as I got home I called the non-emergency Berkeley Police Line. This is not Germany. Since no one was injured, I was told just to notify my insurance company and an official report wasn’t required. What? No ticket? No. Amazing.

Next call was to USAA. By 1000 I had dropped off my car, been picked up by the rental car agency, provided a 2018 Japanese something or other and was back home. It made me glad that I had paid the extra few dollars a month for rental car coverage.

This was not exactly how I had planned on spending my day. But it did help that the As managed to win 6:2 against the Padres.

Driving around in circles

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This was a day spent on wheels in either our car or Shana’s Fiat. I promised Dani I would give her a ride to work, I had to go into San Francisco which was car to BART and back; I needed to pick her up from work. Then there was getting Alex to and from work, picking George up at BART on his return from NYC and getting Shana’s car back to her house along with Noah and his stuff. George did a couple of runs before picking me up to take me back to Berkeley. Something about needing to get home and packing for tomorrow’s departure.

I managed to read a bit and finished my current audiobook – Simon Winchester’s Precision. For anyone interesting in science, engineering and/or the industrial revolution it is a great read. He does his own narration being one of the few authors who can pull that off. I think it might be one of those books which may well be more interesting in audio than written page since it has aspects of technical but it is really about the story. Winchester is an excellent raconteur.

All of this lead to my mind going in circles when I should have been sleeping

New BART Cars

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In general, BART needs a face lift. Badly. The current set of cars are old, clunky, difficult to keep clean and lacking in what has come to be routine in major cities as to signage and accessibility.

As it happens, there are new trains on the way. Not at all like the test cars which have been in the system for a couple of years; these new cars are sleek. The seats can’t be taken apart by any enterprising subway sleeper. They have significantly less seating but markedly better standing space. The handicap locations are clearly marked as are the bicycle areas. What is even more important is that there is electric signage. At the end of the car, the sign clearly states the current station. The electric boards in the cars have both station information and map with the current location clearly noted.

Gee! Just like a real subway that you would find in any International city!

new interior

The seats are suspended so that cleaning should be easy. There are no cushions to be pulled off or stolen. There is signage. Plus, none of the seats would be comfortable for sleepers.

I wonder how soon the homeless advocates are going to complain that these cars discriminate…..

Discussing the new cars was by far better that talking about today’s baseball game. Let me just leave it with – didn’t suck as badly as yesterday….

DWS

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and then there is DWA.

When I was young and first had my driver’s license there weren’t many older women driving. This was the 60s and male prerogative was alive and well. Men drove (and managed to get lost because they didn’t navigate) while women sat in the passenger seat, dealt with extraneous issues like offspring, pets and meal service while on the more long distance hauls that were common family vacations in the 1950s and 60s. In fact, when I think about my grandmothers, I am really not certain if either of them had a driver’s license. Certainly, born around the turn of the century both, neither would have been too old to drive. Not if you looked at what the men were doing.

I can remembering driving in certain areas while in Med School and shuddering each and every time I saw the top of a grey head with eyes peering out the windshield through the steering wheel. It didn’t matter the sex of the driver (mostly women) or the ethnic group. In fact, in the eyes of a young person everyone over a certain age seemed to be small, grey, wrinkled and, while worthy of respect, should not be behind the wheel of a car. Ever.

So – Driving While Aged. Also known in German as “Sontags Fahrer” which translates directly to “Sunday Driver.”

If only they would restrict themselves to Sundays. I could deal with that. I would simply avoid driving anywhere on the weekend. I certainly don’t see them on the road at 0500 in the morning when dropping Dani off at work. The deer, as I mentioned yesterday seem more than willing to fill that particular role.

Today I added DWS – which is either Driving While Stupid or Driving While Sleeping. The first includes putting on make-up, fighting, brushing hair, shaving and messing around with a cell phone in any manner (texting, taking fotos, talking on said cell phone). Kind of like “Slug Bug” which we played when young (be the first one to see a VW Beetle and you got a free hit on a sibling), I decided to start counting the idiots on the way back from Martinez this afternoon.

By the time I hit I-80 South from the Cal 4 entry I was out of both fingers and toes. It simply is not safe to be out on the road where there are idiots, large trucks, debris scattered in the road and rubberneckers looking for their own accident. Somehow I was sorry I turned down George’s offer to drive me. No, it would not be independence, but I could knit, read, cross-stitch or play computer games all of which are much more comforting that following a car with no visible driver.

Finally sliding past and seeing a wizened face peering through the gap in the steering wheel, grey hair in no particular style, gender indeterminate, ethnicity the same. But crawling down the road at under 50 km in the second lane from the left (Continental and North American Rules) it seemed to me that DWS = Driving While Senile. Call me evil, but I reported the license plate number to DMV. I don’t want this older person (older than me which is now referred to as longevity challenged….) to kill themselves or take anyone else with them. Hopefully, if I get to that point, someone will do me the same favor.

Dark of the Moon

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It is that time, a scant few hours before down that is absent most life. The vampires are headed quietly to bed. The werewolves are tucked snuggly in their human forms with the full moon a distant future. This only leaves the idiot deer out for a stroll down from the hills. They wander down through Codornices Park and out into our neighborhood at Eunice and Euclid. Not completely stupid, they are trading the hills, picked over vegetation and mountain lions for groomed lawns and gardens.

“Deer in the headlights” is not just an expression. When hit suddenly with light in the pre-dawn hours they freeze followed by a mad dash in a random direction. That direction can and does include straight into whatever car startled them in the first place. Not being a fan of deer as hood ornaments or grill decorations my instinct was to slam on the brakes while hitting the horn. Normally I am not a fan of disturbing my neighbors before 0515 in the morning. But cleaning deer guts off the car is not exactly something I had scheduled into my plans for the day.

Luck was with me. The lead deer veered off at the last minute with the rest of the thundering pests right on his tail. I was left with an excess of adrenalin. Making it the last few blocks up the hill to the house, I parked and climbed out on trembling legs.

I have finally found a positive thing about living on a hill. By the time I had climbed the hill followed by the stairs to the house my shakes had completely worn off. Going back to bed looked really good about then.

Pizza Moda

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Construction is proceeding on the house. This week’s inspection which included the plumbing in the shower and the chicken wire base on the outside house passed without issue. Chicken wire you ask? Yes, one of the layers in the house skin is chicken wire. It helps hold the stucco in place till it sets. Lathe, plus chicken wire plus stucco. Meanwhile there is plastic covering all the flashings and window/door openings…

Doesn’t make for much of an exciting day, just bash, crash and various electrical machines roaring along the whole day.

It was enough that George and I were more than happy to meet friends at Pizza Moda which turns out to be a lovely Italian type place on University Ave in Berkeley. Early it is families with small children. Later it is adults.

Now let me define early = 1730. Later = 2000. What it really comes down to is that the doors close at 2130. Heading home at 2145, we closed the place down. Berkeley obviously goes for early dining. Not terribly Italian is it? Not just having experienced late dining being defined as starting around 2100 just in December.

It made me interested enough to take a look at restaurant opening and closing times. Sure enough – most open around 1730 give or take 30 minutes and seem to be lights out no later than 2230. Then I thought about NYC. Definitely a later operating schedule. San Francisco runs later hours.

Gee – you would think I was living in the MidWest!

Minor Tremors

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or maybe a bit more. But a 4.6 earthquake rolled through here at 0239 in the morning.

As it turns out, I wasn’t the only one awake as Noah told me this morning. Since he is on the top floor, he didn’t hear it coming where as I heard a rumble approaching before the rolling and rattling hit. The Epi Center has been identified as deep under the Claremont Hotel (less than 5 km from our house).

Borrowed from the News

 

The responsible entity is the Hayward fault with all the usual discussions about us being 10 years overdue for another big one.

A big one that I think will not drop my house into the Pacific (yes, I am immediately west of the fault and I do mean very very close) but rather there will once more be a lovely inland sea from the Rockies to the Appalachian Range.  Just think – new ports for cruise ships…..

and speaking of local insanity – here is a post about a dozen garage doors of Berkeley of which I really appreciate the one with the deer since I see somewhere between 2-7 of the stupid creatures every morning just looking to be hood ornaments.

Half-time

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Since George is such a good sport about attending As games with me I just couldn’t turn him down when he said he had tickets to the Cal Football game this evening. Since my dental appointment (actually periodontal appointment) at the SFVA this morning went well I didn’t even have pain or discomfort as an excuse.

It was a lovely walk into town. Silly me, I though he said the game started at 1900. It turned out to be 1930 which still doesn’t explain why it took almost 2 hours to get to half-time. Meanwhile the temperature had dropped significantly. I started to get cold even though there really wasn’t any wind. The stadium is well designed that way.

Never mind I was wearing tights, jeans, a turtleneck, a fleece AND a leather jacket – sitting still means the cold started to seep into my bones. By 2130 I was shaking and elected to walk home rather than tough out another couple of hours. I was sorry to miss the Cal Marching band. Ole Miss was leading (non-conference game) and I will spare you my thoughts on their nickname.

It was a long uphill walk, of which I am sure you have heard me complaining about before. I am thinking about a nice warm cup of green tea and a book….

Wonder Woman

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I am not sure what I was expecting from this particular movie. I hadn’t seen any of the trailers and hadn’t looked at comic books for years.  Yes, they were definitely comic books when I was a kid. What the difference between a comic book and graphic novel is eludes me completely. Discounting the issue of length and cost. Those perhaps contribute to which category one might apply.

Anyway. Wonder Woman. The movie, what I saw of it was well done. Costuming, fight scenes and all the usual paraphernalia involving the imagining of an ancient but sophisticated culture. Otherwise – I hated it. I never, ever, ever go to fight, war, or violence movies and would not have gone to this one had I known.

I’ve done my time, seen enough death and weapons. Seen what they do to people and can’t see anyway to put heroics, a positive spin or to rewrite history for the sake of a plot. I certainly don’t read fiction related. And besides – this movie doesn’t match the original story of Wonder Woman which was true to the time period in which it was written….

Your mileage may very

Alameda County Fair

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It is not that I go all that often to county fairs. The last one, if my memory serves me correctly was in 1988 where I was the weaver in a Sheep-to-Shawl team. Considering that I was pregnant with Daughter #2 at the time what I mostly remember were smells, heat and nausea.

I hadn’t even thought about such things for years. In fact, I had no idea that there were even such things as county fairs in this area of the country till I was given a free ticket at an As game a week or so ago. Since I had the ticket, it made sense (sort of) to use it. Canvasing the household, Alex was the only taker.

So off we went – Alameda County encompasses a huge portion of the East Bay (including, but not limited to Oakland, Dublin, Pleasanton, San Leandro, Berkeley, Emeryville). Rather large in population as such places go. The fairgrounds are in Pleasanton, which is just about as far from my house as you can get and still be in the county. We drove south and east….

Parking cost, of course. Fairgrounds entry didn’t. Alex took my free ticket and the fairground doesn’t charge either active military or veterans. There were the usual midway rides, games to separate you from your money with cheap prizes as a reward. There was junk food galore.

Of no surprise to me were the buildings containing vendors hawking knives, cookware, magic blenders, massage chairs, windows, siding, sports related souvenirs. Except for the teams which were most prominently displayed, I’d swear it was the same old guy from another state and decades ago. There has to be a fair circuit and things that are only and always sold there.

After an hour or so of wandering we finally found the buildings housing the hobbies, exhibits, small animals and other fun. The hobbies building turned out to have old people (whoops – folks of my age) demonstrating various crafts) while the rest of the hall was filled with cases featuring various “collections.” There is no way I can really put words to this strangeness so I will add in photos as soon as I track down the USB cable.

The small animal barn had bunnies, lots and lots of bunnies along with ducklings and chicks and a few other small birds. The Agriculture and Wine building had plants, bee keeping and one wine merchant. In the building labeled “Exhibits” I struck gold (for me). Not surprising, quilting seems to have taken over here much as it had 30 years ago in Maryland. There were a few entries in the knitting, spinning and weaving categories. More in the crochet (yes, the obligate baby stuff). Nothing in needlepoint, only one entry in cross-stitch. There was also a category which I found extremely strange – place settings. Like the hobby entries, these can only be seen and not well described or understood.

I never did find the large animals, but the hour was getting toward heavy traffic and we decided to skip both the rides and the late evening concert. There wasn’t any horse racing today, not that I minded at all.

Tomorrow’s plan? Wonder Woman.

Up from the depths

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the only way I can describe this past week is like a deep well. It has been a combination of the chemo hitting me, the house construction with the jack hammering and pounding to the point where it seems like my whole body vibrates to a complete lack of interest in people and/or food.

I think I am starting to get it together which means that I will release the last weeks worth of blog posts as soon as I have a chance to go back and clear out the worst of the evil thoughts and bad languages.

Tonight I am allegedly participating in a class over at Rodeo Beach on the Marin headlands on night photography. The only challenge, besides going completely manual on my camera is going to be if the fog – aka marine layer – doesn’t cooperate enough to let us see the sky. It is pretty hard to photo the night sky when all you see is a blur of white descending to the tips of the closest dunes and hills.

Babi Yar

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Is
1) a location in the Ukraine where early on in WWII the Nazis – with local complicity and probably help shot and buried over 34000 Jews in mass graves
2) A poem by Yevgeny Yevtushenko published in 1961.
3) Symphony No. 13 (Shostakovich).

The first event was glossed over in the World History courses I took in High School. Rural Minnesota did more old and western history and pretty much stayed out of WWII. The Shoah was well known, at least to me, but not all of the details.

The second was introduced to me my freshman fall in University by a fellow student in my math class. It was his reason, he explained, for taking Russian as a foreign language since the poem, tho powerful had to be better in the original language than in translation. I bought the concept, what did I know at 17? Now, really? Yes works are much better in the original language – Le Petit Prince comes to mind. But then there are the dense and heavy German tombs which kind translators have turned into almost readable volumes with sentences that don’t run on for fourteen pages.

The third I really learned about this year. Having never really been a fan of Shostakovich (Glorify the Russian Revolutions? Ok, and keep out of Siberia – I get it), I never noted how many he had written. This particular symphony in five movements was inspired by the poem (see above) and then was extended with the addition of four more poems.  Did I mention that this is also a complete choral work with male basses. And only male basses?

Tonight’s performance was by the Berkeley Symphony Orchestra, plus four actors reading the poems prior to the music (two of which should have been removed for all of their emoting since it seemed to be more about them than the poem. The other two were excellent). The solo singer was excellent but he could have been singing Italian for all the specific word emphasis he placed. The Men’s Choir was amazing. In order to gather enough men they raided the Berkeley Choir, The Russian Orthodox Church’s Choir (St Stephans?) and Alumni from the Oakland Boys Choir.  There was an interesting discussion ahead of time which included a shoulder shrug as to why this particular piece had been scored this way – essentially only one male voice.

Easy Peasy in my opinion. Deep Russian Voice? Male dominated society especially at the time Babi Yar occurred; these men are standing for all Russian Men. They are acknowledging what was done, how people thought, what they did, what remains to be done. I can’t think of any way more fitting than what was chosen.

 

The House

I went and looked up past mention I have made of construction, renovation and my otherwise disgust with the house. A lot of it was scattered here and there and never quite in anything coherent. So my apologies for sounding sharp. I had individually answered a lot of questions over the last couple of years, but never put it in a format which would make sense to everyone.

Since I spent most of the morning in the garage sorting out stuff – I emptied 20+ boxes. Most of them are books which will be finding another home. Two boxes of which I dropped off to a new weaver today (she took my Baby Wolf off my hands) so that she can add research and theory to the practical lessons she has taken. I’m also working on the studio, but don’t think I am going to show any photos of that particular disaster in progress….

It was the biggest

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possum that I had ever seen. Heading across Rose St with all the speed it could muster I saw it out of the corner of my eye and hit the brakes. Didn’t hit it. Critter turned as it made the far side of the road and I would swear it sneered at me. Did I mention this was at just after 2100 so it was dark, the possum was dirty white and those eyes looked really, really red.

College Guy says that there is a huge one that hangs out in a tree behind CVS which has been known to hiss at him. We figure it is the same one, Between the restaurants, CVS and the JCC I am sure that it is no where near starving to death.

Haven’t been to Paris or Rome today – but have been to Walnut Creek, Richmond, San Francisco and Berkeley. I think that is probably more than enough!

Out at the Park

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It is spring – and there is a ball game.

There is the mascot Stomper

the Berkeley School Band playing the National Anthem

representing Berkeley (mostly middle schools)

And various assorted pitches on the field –

it would have been nice to strike him out

Two meals and some cross stitch

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Brunch today was at Sauls. A pleasant meal spent with a colleague of George’s. I happily ate my way through a plate of mid-eastern goodies while they mostly talked of business. Landing at our hour afterwards, I mostly listened to the ongoing conversation and only put my oar in on occasion.

To refresh your memory – this was where I was on the 30th. Oh, perhaps I didn’t let you know that. Oh, well….

 

30 March 2017

 

After a mostly aborted attempt to use the hot tub (some people in my house keep promising that they will check the power box regularly and don’t. I’d do it myself but I can’t get the thing open) since it wasn’t up to temperature I really decided I needed Thai food for dinner.  Took the Eldest, brought take-away to College Guy since he was on closing shift. The dog-lovers headed down the hill to find sushi.

Evening end – I was here on the Cross-stich

2 April 2017

which is showing some substantial progress.

 

 

 

Hand of God

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Is currently playing at the Berkeley Rep. Combining people with hand puppets, its origins harken back a couple of thousand years. Realistically – think Punch & Judy Shows. The themes were most certainly adult and the casting was amazing. At least if you are from Minnesota and had ever met a Lutheran pastor (father of a med school classmate).

It was a great way to end an otherwise stressful day which involved a lot of time running errands, sorting stuff and spending hours stuck in traffic.

Hint – if you ever visit San Francisco, do not EVER attempt to drive in the city after 1700 on a Friday. Let me amend that to any evening in rush hour. Further adding to the challenge was rain. So there we are, gridlock + oblivious pedestrians who can’t see where they are going because of umbrellas. This almost guarantees that one of them is going to blindly cross the street against the light. Just about the time that the traffic on the other side of the intersection moves just enough that one (1!) car could have gotten across.

Where was I? Jason, Jessica, Timothy + puppets + a couple of adults. Interesting take on “did the devil really make him do it?” Fake blood folks.

No snow here

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It might be raining, but seeing the pictures Miriam has sent from NYC, I can confirm we made the right decision to stay away from snow. Say what you want about the quality of life New England, the culture of New York or the dynamic political scene of Washington DC.

Wait, let’s strike that last location and stay far far away from there..

I don’t miss the snow.

Specifically, I don’t miss shoveling snow. Or driving on slippery roads with people who think 4-wheel drive = 4-wheel stop. I might actually miss those biting cold days when the sun blazes and the snow is so cold it squeaks for the pleasure of sitting inside where it is toasty warm and I can admire it from the distance of my couch and comforter.

We are having more rain. It is enough that the creek in the local park is running briskly. I can hear the waterfall from our driveway. No chance of flooding for us, we are completely out of the risk zone, but it the music the water makes as it rushes across the rocks is soothing me to sleep.

I thought about errands today, then elected to stay home this morning only venturing out on a short run this afternoon before going to friends for dinner. So it is all quiet here for the moment.