Two Days Late, But Not A Dollar Short

Regular readers will realize that I normally post on Monday, and not Wednesday. But the hard work of retirement isn't leaving me as much time for writing as I expected. Or maybe it is just that I haven't been able to prioritize properly yet. It appears I am writing about every two weeks now, rather than the weekly frequency I kept up for almost 15 years.

I simply wish to record the fact that, at V's instigation, we had a lovely Sunday the day before Labor Day. The weather was lovely. We took BART to Powell Street, then went to the top of the SF Centre for lunch at Straits, a darn fine eatery located there with Asian Fusion food. Then over to Civic Center station. I thought Muni would be faster for this short haul than BART; I was wrong. From the station a brisk three blocks to one of SF's great remaining Art House cinemas, the Opera Plaza. Apparently, after 35 years of exposure to me, V is starting to pick up some of my preferences, like seeing two movies in a day. Back to back we saw an old French film, Summer's Tale, and a modern Italian one, Five-Star Life. Both were very pleasant and provided fodder for discussion on the BART ride home.

The next weekend, we had two couples over for dinner, along with out daughter R. I hate to overuse the word lovely, but that's just what it was. Everyone was interested in what everyone else had to say (three of the women were psychotherapists, so that probably helped the dynamic), and an evening of good takeout food and lively conversation followed. We had drinks on the back patio, which V has worked very hard to spiff up, followed by dinner in the nook. We didn't cook ourselves, or roll out the dining room table because V wanted to keep the evening informal. Seven at the round table is a squeeze, but we made it.  Then some rose and lavender tea in front of the gas fireplace. Heaven. Is this how I'm going to spend my retirement? I don't know, but I hope so.