Two weeks ago my stepmother called and asked hypothetically if she was going to San Francisco for work and my Dad had enough points to fly me up, could I meet her for a girls’ weekend in San Francisco? I looked at the calendar and could not believe that she was referring to the weekend the boys would be on their “Father and Sons Campout.” It also happened to be the last couple of days before school starts so I agreed, excitedly, so long as I could be home as soon as possible on Sunday to spend Red’s final day before school starts with him.
In a day and a half we explored Fisherman’s Wharf and Pier 39 and saw the sea turn from afternoon pleasantries to evening moodiness when the wind picked up in the dark. It felt like we were in a movie. I was moved by the power and emotion of the ocean, so wild and deep. (Photo below was taken just before the ocean started to brood. Once it was dark none of my photos turned out.)
We saw Chinatown wake up and open up, not yet bustling with tourists and locals. We perused the farmer’s market at the Ferry Building, and had lunch in sunny Sausalito (whereupon I also got a sunburn.) I meandered through Union Square while Liz rested her weary feet. We topped off the day at a nice Italian restaurant around the corner from the hotel.
It was fun, but I missed my family terribly. I could not wait to be home and hug them all. I had been experiencing a lot of first-day-of-school jitters for the past few days, anxious about starting the insanity all over, but we all received priesthood blessings and I feel calm and ready.