Picnic on Jewel Lake followed by a visit to the 1911 carousel that lived in Griffith and Golden Gate parks before calling Tilden home. Then we drove away from summer and right back under that sky blanket. Hooray for Fogust.
Weeks away from exposing novel to strangers: a sudden need to see it hanging (in index card form), plus wildly clean apartment and cook Ratatouille (a dish whose name means, roughly, to stir up). Pop at my favorite neighborhood Mom’n’Pop produce place, El Grande, asked, “Where’d you get that bag?” “It’s from Mexico.” “I thought […]