When were the last two weeks?
|Beautiful day in Berkeley|
I’m not sure when it happened but I remember walking around Berkeley with an old friend, flavors of breakfast polenta and navratan korma for dinner. I remember eating sushi with my sister and brother-in-law, room for one more roll and asking the chef to make us whatever he felt like, seeing his answering smile, and thoroughly enjoying some sort of mango and raw fish dessert. I remember seeing my brother answer the door of his apartment in Bernal Heights and drinks in the bar waiting for our table.
There were the tears of welcome from my mom and the wagging tails of beagles who don’t need to understand the passage of time, and toasting my “padres” at dinner with the wine we bought in the Anderson Valley.
A brief series of impressions from a coastal town I used to live in, dinner with friends before choosing whiskey custard over black pepper cheesecake at a new organic ice creamery. Meeting another friend’s puppy before having my first proper burrito in years.
That half an hour in San Francisco managed to include a dog park with beautiful views of my original The City, seeing an old friend hit a double in his softball game, and delectable cupcakes in the home of world renowned hospitality.
Somewhere in there we stayed in our second ridiculously cozy lighthouse hostel, waking up to morning rollers off the Pacific.
But somehow that all, and the iceberg beneath it, went straight into my memory, and I spent a year driving away from a cozy house in Santa Rosa, where K will spend the next two month learning yoga, meditation, and whatever else the unique ensemble has to offer.
Luckily hospitality was not exhausted, and I spent these last few days in friendship, conversation, and a Giants game. Baseball baby! Now I’m really back in America… Leaving in three days.
I expect those three days to last 4 minutes, but in it I’ll cram a brief city reunion with K, an Easter supper with the fam, and the nauseas floating of waiting for an airplane…
See you in Nicaragua.