It's been hot here, off and on, and that is awesome. We don't get enough of it here, and when we do I feel so much more alive. The weather is the worst thing about living in San Francisco, to me. If the sun doesn't heat the ground, you don't smell the grass or the garbage, and then you don't get olfactory triggers or olfactory memories. That is the truth, and I've probably already waxed on about it here before.
Our favorite little dell at the west end of Golden Gate Park.
Perfectly timed arrival of Martha Stewart Living "Summer Food Issue".
Tufted Eucalyptus seed pod from the Panhandle.
I keep track of this skull van for my friend Mike. I text him a photo of
it whenever I find it in a new location. Here it is, outside the DMV.
Oliver joined us on a field trip. Obviously he had a great time.
A more summery palette for my little piñatas. More to come on that soon.
Warm enough to splash in the kitchen sink!
Sometimes a giant bowl of spaghetti is the best tasting thing in the world,
and can even enhance a crappy glass of wine.
The quality of these photos is terrible, but Oliver's body language in them kills us.
He looks like he's working on posters for his high school band or something.
Stella and I playing a half a day of hooky. It was awesome. Amount of attention
given to one child directly proportional to amount of love and cooperation
given back to one parent. Proven time and time again to be the best attitude
A self-initiated nap for the never-napper. Also awesome.