INTERTWINING FRIENDSHIPS

House in Noe Valley by Christy Myers

The Painted Ladies that grace Steiner Street in San Francisco tell part of the story of the City. They are beautifully maintained and are famous around the world. Since living in San Francisco, we continue to find neighborhoods filled with many more Victorians. They are common in areas frequented by tourists and locals. They are found on Webster Street near Japan Town, on Fell and Oak near Golden Gate Park, and flourish on Bush and Sutter Streets heading away from downtown.

Like so many other larger cities, San Francisco is divided into districts, such as China Basin, Richmond, North Beach, and the Presidio. In some of these districts, the Victorians have disappeared, replaced by modern skyscrapers or transformed with plain concrete edifices. We are exploring other districts that are not on familiar tourist lists. We had dinner at L'Ardoise on Noe Street in the Dubose area and at Pacific Catch on the edge of the Sunset District. I met a friend for lunch at a cafe in Bernal Heights. Last weekend, we ventured with Christy and Ken, long-time friends, to Noe Valley to the south of the Mission District. With Ken as our driver, we went through the neighborhood, and discovered that none of us, including Christy, a native San Franciscan, had ever been in Noe Valley.

We met the Myers a long time ago before our son was born. Their son was our son's first baby sitter. We have shared many adventures. Christy has a touch of magic with children, setting a bowl of whipped cream in front of my son at the end of a meal, singing old camp songs in the car, or building sandcastles together at the beach. Christy is also an artist and interior designer. When the two of us visit museums in the City with another good friend, she can point to houses in Sea Cliff and in the Panhandle that she decorated. Her family's history in San Francisco goes back to her great-grandparents who came to the City as immigrants. Her grandfather built houses in various districts after the 1906 earthquake and fire. For a couple of years, our son may have lived in one of his houses on Lyon Street. These are Christy's stories to tell and make our trips more fun in the process.

by Martha Slavin

We were delighted by the streets in Noe Valley and Ken stopped to let us out of the car to quickly photograph Victorian after Victorian. We marveled how painters had emphasized the ornate decorations on the exteriors and the stained glass windows that brightened the interiors. At the end of our day, Christy suggested a Victorian Challenge for us to either draw or paint what we had seen on our adventure through Noe Valley. Within a few short days, we came up with differing views of a quiet part of San Francisco.

 

Two Friends by Bill Slavin (his answer to the Victorian Challenge)

FULL MOON KING TIDES

 

    This week the moon rose above the East Bay hills, large as a balloon, shining brightly against the sky. The Earth reacted with King Tides; tides that run extremely low to extremely high. Good surfing time, surfers flock to the Mavericks near Half Moon Bay to dare the power of the water.

Someone once said it's important to take risks throughout your life and continue learning. I haven't tried surfing, but we are taking a risk by downsizing, moving from the suburbs to a city, changing the patterns of our lives, and meeting new people.

We drove through Danville last weekend. Our trip was a reminder of the area's vibrant autumn leaves that we hadn't seen in San Francisco. Instead, we see the moon rising at the horizon, the tides along Mission Creek, and the seabirds that react to the flow of water.

We thought of all the places we have stayed in the last year and a half from extended-stay hotels, a beach house, VRBOs, and two apartments in the same complex. Now we are gradually moving to our condo a few blocks away. We look forward to our permanent move but we don't expect to be living there till after the holidays.

We took the first delivery of our stored goods, which included the furniture that would fit in a smaller space and the essentials for everyday living. Boxes spread across the floor full of clothing, kitchen equipment, house management files not on the computer, and bedding, all that had been packed away for a year and a half waiting for our next move. Finally, I had my cutting boards (both for the kitchen and my art space, which is no longer an art room, but good enough), good knives, egg slicer, and pencil sharpener. I unwrapped the bowls I used to hold rice and vegetables. I looked at the baking sheets and pans and wondered if I would ever make cookies or cupcakes again. We unearthed the espresso machine and looked around for a place to put it. I had hoped to use a cabinet with shelves for cups but it is too narrow and we could see the whole thing being flipped over onto the floor with one accidental bump.

We still have more boxes to come: my art supplies other than the basics I have had with me, Bill's office accouterments, and our books. Still, as we started the unpacking process, unwrapping each precious object from three sheets of blank newsprint paper, I was reminded of a year in my childhood, when I stole into my parents' bedroom at Christmas, peeked under the bed, and discovered all the contents of my presents. When we unwrapped our gifts on Christmas Eve, I was disappointed to find nothing else for me under the tree. I never looked for gifts ahead of time again. I felt that same sense of disappointment as I unwrapped each item from the boxes. Each time we took a bundle, we would peel off the sheet only to discover a familiar object - one glass of a large set, one plate, one cup with many more to come. All that paper grew into high stacks in our living room. 

Unwrapping each bundle, I started a stack of items to give away. I asked myself questions. Do we need eight of these or will four do fine? Or do we need them at all? Would we have parties in our new place? Probably not. Our life has changed again. We enjoy small get-togethers with one or two couples instead, usually at a restaurant nearby.

If you have ever packed up to move, you know that before you move you go through your old place and discard and donate anything you know you will no longer need. When you arrive at your new destination, especially after a long time, and open the first boxes, you have the same feeling as when you pull out the drawer everyone seems to have filled with the detritus of life. In the same way, I looked into our boxes with astonishment/bewilderment as to why these things came with us. Even though we had eliminated a lot from our previous home, we still had too much stuff for a life that we had simplified, no longer needing all those old possessions.

From our new place, we won't see the creek and the seabirds that live by it. Instead, we will have sunsets and a broad view of the cityscape. We look down at the Japanese maples at the front of the building, which still haven't turned from green to their autumn glory. Huge sycamore leaves drop onto the sidewalk until the wind picks them up and throws them into the air. As we walked out of our building, we watched as a young boy stood in amazement at the antics of the leaves and couldn't help but smile at his wonderment.

WINTER'S BOOKS

Since I can feel the chill in the air that leads to late fall and the beginnings of winter, I think of hearty soups, a cozy blanket, and historical fiction that allows me to imagine experiences that transcend time and place. A novel may show me a different culture, a different lifestyle, or patterns of behavior. Some of them show our slow progress to be better human beings and others remind me that we still have a lot of work to do to leave this world a better place than we found it.

Lady Tan's Circle of Women by Lisa See

See has written several books about women in China at different periods of history. In her latest book, she writes about Lady Tan, who lived during the 16th century and practiced medicine, an unusual occupation for an upper-class woman. The book opens up the sheltered world of upper-class women in China, who remained in patriarchal bondage and whose fortunes were determined by their husbands and family. The women were not able to leave the grounds of their family home, were subjected to foot binding to attract a suitable husband, and were never allowed to have a career other than as a mother.

See describes the painful process of foot binding in great detail, which begins when a girl is a toddler. The foot becomes shaped like an arrow with toes pulled under, bones broken, and infection a constant problem. As a reader, you question why this practice of foot binding lasted for over a thousand years. But then, we can look at our own choices of wearing 6-inch high heels with pointed toes, undergoing plastic surgery, and using weight-loss pills to acquire the elusive beauty we imagine we want.

Amy Chui's first novel, The Golden Gate, is set during WWII at the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley. A suspenseful detective story patterned after noir classics, the narrative revolves around the assassination of a presidential candidate staying at the hotel and the three beautiful sisters who may be involved. As I read the book, I could visualize the fedoras on men's heads, the pearls dripping off the shoulders of the women, and secrets hidden behind heavy hotel doors.

The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride is my favorite this year. The story revolves around families in a small Black and Jewish community and the grocery store that sustains them. The story is full of great characters such as Moshe and his wife Chona, who own the store, and Nate who works for them. The community comes together to defend itself against the stronger White group trying to displace the community to take over their land for development. The book touches on an important part of our history about White flight, the displacement of low-income communities for urban renewal, and our lack of reparations to those communities. In San Francisco in the 1960s and 1970s, the lively Fillmore District became an example of that saga. (Read On the Rooftop by Marian Wilkerson Sexton, set in the district in that era.)

Two other good books, Alibi by Joseph Kanon and All the Broken Places by John Boyne, are set in the aftermath of WWII. I have often wondered how a defeated nation recovers from war and how the people involved retrieve a place in a healthy society. These two books provide a window into that experience.

Don't miss So Many Ways to Be a Bird

A friend of mine, Constance Anderson, who is a writer and illustrator, has just published a children's book just in time for holiday gifting. It's a delight, filled with painted and collaged illustrations of birds.

 

TODAY AND TOMORROW

 The sun did come up on Wednesday the day I wrote this post. 

 Today.

Today I was going to publish a post about good reads for Winter.

That will have to wait for another day.

Today I continue to feel stunned by the election results.

Today I looked back to what I wrote in November 2016 when I felt shocked by that election news:

"I watched as my watercolor teacher painted a derelict shack. She said, "This is hard." Something she always says when she paints. I said back to her, "Especially today. I couldn't sleep last night." My friend next to me nodded in agreement, and then the rest of the members of the class chimed in with the same news. Some were full of hope, most of us felt shocked. I thought in our tiredness how we all let our vulnerability show. We came together whichever side we put ourselves on, and offered tentative healing words. One man in his 80s, said, "I've seen worse."

Today I realize that as an artist and a writer, I can continue to write and make art of the small things in life. I can write about sailing a boat as a beginner, about animals that have wandered across my path, about being a vagabond for a year, and how moving to a city has changed my life. I can continue to write about people I consider dear friends, family, and colleagues.

Tomorrow I am going to continue to support libraries and reproductive freedom and preserving the natural world.

Today I can make some good soup and pick up a book and a blanket and immerse myself in a story in the shelter of our apartment.

Today I can read the newsletters that give me hope.

Rebecca Solnit: https://x.com/RebeccaSolnit/status/1854179269003637000

KE Garland:  https://kwoted.wordpress.com/2024/11/06/the-day-trump-was-re-elected/

Pics and Posts:  https://iamchandralynn.com/2024/11/06/grieve-survive-resist-love/

Literally Letty:  https://golfoklahoma.org/literally-letty-the-golf-gypsy-will-rogers-and-clint-eastwood/

Americans of Conscience:  https://americansofconscience.com/11-08-2024/#goodnews

Reasons To Be Cheerful:  https://mailchi.mp/reasonstobecheerful.world/the-indian-state-that-went-100-organic-5372315?e=d492e63da7

And I will ask myself the question that Reasons To Be Cheerful asked of its readers:

What will you continue to do to make this a better world?

COMING HOME

Photo by Bill Slavin

San Francisco's fog hung back from the City as we crossed the Bay Bridge at the other end of town. I smiled at the fog bank, looked ahead to the City's skyline, and realized I felt happy to be coming home. We spent the last three days in Livermore in the East Bay sorting through storage containers at the moving company where we stored most of our worldly goods. After each exhausting day, we spent the evenings at a bed and breakfast inn in the heart of the Livermore wine country. We looked over vast acres of grapevines and olive trees, ranch houses, harvesting equipment, and barns, leading to the rolling hills in the distance. We saw a bucolic, peaceful scene in front of us, so much different from our new life in the City.

In the early morning, we sat outside the lodge in rocking chairs and listened to the birds singing in the nearby trees. A mockingbird captured our attention with its variations of other songbirds' songs. The grapevines hung thick with clusters of ripened, purple grapes. We didn't hear the sound of a fire engine, streetcar, or plane overhead. The dampness from the night was slowly drying as the sun rose higher in the sky, leaving behind the dry heat that we were used to in our former home.

We drove to downtown Livermore, a surprisingly large town in the middle of farm country. The town is bustling with small restaurants and local businesses along the main street. We stopped once for coffee at Press at one end of town and for coffee at Coffee On First at the other end. We ate dinner at Uncle Yu's, a well-known East Bay restaurant with Chinese cuisine. Wondering around Livermore felt so much like our previous life, with people looking familiar to us because they wore similar clothes and were doing the same things we used to do, meeting friends for coffee, getting ready to play golf or ride a bike, or celebrating a friend's birthday.

Since we bought a condominium in the City, we continue to bounce back and forth between thinking our purchase was a big mistake and enjoying all the activities we can now do because we are so close to parks, museums, ballparks, and theaters. We like the mix of age groups, languages, and cultures that are part of our new neighborhood. We are glad we have had the time to think our decision through even though our 3-day trip was filled with fluctuating doubts. As we drove across the Bay Bridge, I had a spark of recognition that the City has become our new home, the place we want to be right now.  We can always make a short trip to enjoy country life. Nothing is forever. 

Photo by Bill Slavin

************

I hope you have all voted or plan to vote next Tuesday, November 5.

I read this opinion somewhere this week but failed to note its author. The person still made an important, thoughtful point:

" This election is about character. It is not about the character of the candidates, but about our own."