I'd like a tiny pastry chef.

Loved looking at the huggy babies ( who really aren't babies anymore)

Happy birthday Kat!

It is not very talky here -- that means I need to go out and pull more plants out .

This morning's breakfast was inspired by: (1) scrounging with available leftovers; (2) fancy coffee table cookbooks with tantalizing pictures of elaborate open faced sandwiches; (3) English cuisine. (Oxymoron?)

Leftovers included a half loaf of Italian bread that came with our Italian takeout from a few nights ago; hard boiled eggs; cherry tomatoes.

Cut two thick slices of Italian bread and popped them in the toaster. Shelled the hardboiled egg and sliced up the smooth little eggy. Took the perfectly toasted bread, buttered it, shaved parmesan over it, put on the sliced hard boiled eggs, sliced up the cherry tomatoes to add a little contrasting color and acid. A little salt and pepper and it was delicious.

Note to self: have a small bowl of hard boiled eggs handy in the fridge for salads and other summery fare.

have a small bowl of hard boiled eggs handy in the fridge for salads and other summery fare.

I thought Summer in San Francisco was a myth.

Well, it's more "summer" in San Francisco.

But the food is summery because it comes from inland where "summer" is actually summer.

Meanwhile, I'm waiting to see if my French friends survive the trek into the city. We are heading to the Presidio Social Club for what I hope will be a tasty brunch. I'm planning on having a sloe gin fizz.

It's actually sunny and fogless right now. A blistering...61 degrees at noon.

I realize I have not eaten. Mac got back from the movies with one friend and I just dropped off for a playdate with another. I've got 3 more hours to get stuff done today, then it will be prep for tomorrow.

Happy birthday, kat! You are so old, and I'm even older! But so are your kids.

A blistering...61 degrees at noon.

We are a smokin' 73! I didn't think we would ever crack 70.

I had another mountain adventure today, taking my trash and recycles to the transfer station. Being a city girl I am accustomed to people actually coming to my house to take the trash and recycles. So after a month of accumulating bags in a big trash can and carefully separating every conceivable category of recycles I set off in a truck and went to the top of McCauley Mountain to the official garbage joint. They are open later on Sunday because that is when most campers are leaving. The attendant was super helpful and polite and assured me that any kind of old junk that needed disposing could find a bin there. Whee! I feel all accomplished. I should nap now.

ComicCon. Good God, ComicCon. I have seen some great costumes. I have seen some costumes that made me want to go up to the person, shake them gently, and say "Just because you CAN doesn't mean you SHOULD."

"Just because you CAN doesn't mean you SHOULD."

Aeon Flux?