So in a recent turn of events and a few things looking like they're going our way, we're moving back home earlier than expected. yay! It thrills me but at the same time is saddening--we sorta have gotten to really know this place.
Take yesterday, for instance, and the day before. for the last two days we've been heading over to the Mission for a wacky breakfast (SF 2 days in a row ='s we are lucky birds): it's an attempt to finally try the maple bacon latte at Pirate Radio Cafe on 21st & Florida. (today we lucked out and it was indeed smoky deliciousness. i would happily settle for their cayenne mocha though.) Then we walk a few blocks over to Dynamo Donuts in the vain hope to find their bacon donut available...it never is so
we turn the corner for the walk back to our car somewheres. we say hi to Lulu, the beagle mascot of the house painters up on the ladder, we admire the 'blue' mural, Steve inevitably says "I smell culture" at the urine stench on certain dark corners of the sidewalk, and I mockingly roll my eyes right back at him.
That was random.
I guess what I'm trying to say is there's so many things I still want to do here, and it feels like we're just getting started. The Friday Night Skate in the city. Go to Lassen Volcanic NP and hike the Bumpass Hell trail (by far the coolest sounding trail I've ever heard). Eat at Cyrus. Wine tasting at Quintessa. Camping at Armstrong Grove. Sandboarding on Pismo Beach. Finally get to Tartine in time to have one of their freshly-baked loaves. Take artsy photos of the Golden Gate Bridge. Shoot, take some decent pictures of the cable cars, preferably with my new camera that intimidates the living daylights out of me. We won't get to see the ice caves at Lava Beds National Monument since they're only open in winter and we never did make it off their wait list. Anyhow. Bring on summer.
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