We once fantasized about moving to the City, even long enough to pick out our favorite neighborhoods (I fancied Noe Valley). But after my travels in Spain and sleepless nights in Madrid I realized I couldn’t survive in a big, noisy city very long. However, this weekend made the City very alluring. After spending Saturday morning on the beach enjoying coffee with an old friend, we headed up to San Fran to break in my good friend Rachel’s new adorable studio at a housewarming party. Good conversation, highly-spiked punch and a wild haired cabby (When we exited the cab Hubby asked “Was that a man or a woman?”) served as the perfect Saturday night. Making it a full weekend, we stayed overnight at the Pickwick Hotel (featured in the classic flick “The Maltese Falcon”) and woke up late in search of a java-jolt and sugary pastries–the perfect hangover medicine.
What is a trip to the City without art and shopping? So we perused the Market Street wares (I got a fab fall sweater, Hubby some much-needed t-shirts) and then embarked on a tour of the SFMOMA’s Matthew Barney exhibit. We were familiar with Barney’s work from our trip to New York in 2002 and his bizarre exhibit at the Guggenheim Museum. But his “Drawing Restraint” exhibit took weird to a whole new level. I could become very tangential about what art is, and what makes an artist after viewing Barney’s show, but it would be far too long.
After another short visit with Rachel we headed back to our shore-side home, missing the electric vibe of San Francisco, but refreshed by the green air and somber silence of home. Maybe someday we’ll experience city living, but for now, our proud redwood trees fill the soul (and encourage the zzzzs).
I never thought I’d like riding a bike. Bikers or cyclists just looked like children with too many toys–brightly colored jerseys, arched sunglasses, and camelback water systems. They also traveled in obnoxiously large pods, teaming past my home yelling at one another to be heard. But I’m starting to come around. The first weekend in August some co-workers and friends set out to Waddell Creek, several miles north of Santa Cruz, near Davenport. The journey was an awesome, mud-soaked 6 mile ride, followed by a 3 mile hike rewarded with views of four waterfalls. Although I was initially put off by the dirt, the more splattered I got with each puddle, the wider my smile grew. If you had asked me a year ago if I liked mountain biking, or even just a simple bike ride, I would have said no. But with this whole new wheeled world open to me, I now see previously hidden adventures awaiting. My office mate Nikkie and I (pictured along side me) have posted a local cycling map in our office where we’re plotting our future destinations. Those toys (especially the padded spandex shorts) don’t sound so silly anymore.
My life has been full. From the break of dawn until late into the damp midnight air, my body has been in motion, mouth moving, or brain focusing diligently. Some times all three at once. But the causes of this overly-packed lifestyle have been good ones, sometimes even wonderful.
The first is love. Love in the form of a wedding between two of my very good friends in one weeks time. Being a part of their planning and celebration is a blessing and a joy, but not without its due time and attention.
The second has been work. My transition into a new workspace (we moved offices) is now complete and I am adjusting to the lifestyle of an overly airconditioned office with no windows to the outside world. To top that off, I’ve been preparing for our presence at this weekend’s Strawberry Festival, from staffing to banners, and actually working at the event (just returning home at 10pm tonight).
The last and best thing that has filled my attention these past few weeks is my beloved sister and her baby dog Ranger. While most of the time we spent together were casual dinners or watching DVDs, her presence in my home changed my day-to-day routine. Now that she has flown home to North Dakota I find myself looking at her favorite spot to sit on the couch, her empty bedroom, and the lack of her presence filling my senses. 
Guinness dog feels it too. He has repeatedly walked into the room where Sister and Ranger slept, searching for them, and is trying to reteach himself how to be an only-child dog playing with toys by himself. Some special love and attention is sorely in need.
So while my life has technically returned back to normal, with my sister home and the Strawberry Festival in my past, I’ve grown accustomed to the new norm. When I passed the threshold, the absence of my sister’s smiling face was immediate, the uplifting energy of Ranger missing, and my heart sunk a wee bit in my chest. I sighed and made myself a hot chocolate to cope. So cheers to my returned norm, but I hope she comes home again soon.
