I have on-line news sources I enjoy checking in with during the day. The New York Times, NPR, HuffPost, SFGate, all companions and only a bookmark away. However, nothing, nothing will ever replace the time-honored rustle and feel of our paper copy of the San Francisco Chronicle with my first cup of tea in the morning. I always pick up such pearls of wisdom and bits of inspiration for the day. From the Bugman in the Home section (great non-toxic recipe for your spray bottle to battle black widows in the garden), to the plant of the week (I am only interested if they are natives-ok, also succulents), and onto the meyer lemon panna cotta recipe I’m making for tonight’s dinner. It is the obscure things that I just happen to run across, combined with the luxury of having the time to savor the experience.
Last weeks great find was info about the photographer Marc Riboud, who would be having his work displayed on the walls of the Journalism building on the CAL campus. Perfect opportunity, not very far away and just by looking at the reprints in the paper I knew it would be inspirational. The article itself inspired me to think of “photography as geometry” and I was thrilled that I would be able to see the photos in the size that the artist meant them to be.(I still remember the large poster I had of a Georgia O’Keeffee painting of a white petunia. When I saw the real painting in a museum, it had an intensity and luminosity that came from its much smaller real size. Reproductions don’t always give the real impact. You know those water lilies by Monet? They are actually as big as a wall.)
Saturday morning we hopped over to Berkeley to the North side gate.
Up the stairs to the Journalism building only to find locked doors. (Turns out, it was Spring Break. No wonder it was so easy to find parking. Hmmm, here we have one of the world’s best journalism schools and one of the best newspapers with an article that the next week the public couldn’t access what they were spotlighting. Don’t mean to be critical, but wouldn’t that be part of the story…) Time for making lemonade out of the lemons. After taking this photo of a beautiful ceanothus next to the LOCKED doors
That took about 3 minutes, what now?—Off to Walnut Square to reminisce about our Saturday morning walks for coffee at the original, and at that time only, Peet’s Coffee. Still on the corner as a beacon.
The French Hotel
The first or second year it was open, Terry took me to dinner here for my birthday. It was by far the most expensive, indulgent meal we had ever had, $30.00 for the both of us. For our thirtieth anniversary, we went again and it cost us $60.00 a piece. Retirement incomes being what they are, we will not be doing it again, unless our kids want to take us there for our fortieth anniversary. (Did you hear me, kids?)
A beautiful planter with succulents on the curb out front: