Ahhh...Sundays

How I love the weekend. Yesterday, even though I spent hours in a class that is required for me to teach indoor cycling at the Y, hours that seemed slow and unimportant, I did get to take my lunch at the farmer's market at the Ferry Building in San Francisco. Other than there being way too many people for me to feel really comfortable, this is like going to temple for me. The Ferry Building does a market every Tuesday and Saturday and they have all the produce and sundries you could want. I brought my lunch and sat on a bench looking out on the bay and its bridge. It was one of those perfect California days. I sat next to a young guy who was playing his fiddle (or maybe it's a violin) in a folk-bluegrass style. I loved watching children be totally mesmerized by him, but still subconsciously dancing to the tunes. At some point, another guy came up with his fiddle. They didn't know each other, but introduced themselves, found out they were both named Nick, and got to playing. At this point, I'm pretty sure this is as good as it can get for me: warm sun, yummy food, great view, and good music. Although I have many moments of missing my home in the east, I am glad to know there are places I can go here that make me so content. Although, I'd still love to have a cute boy or even just a cut dog to love these places with me, but that's not in the cards right now.

Okay, so I really wanted to talk about Sunday. I am now getting the Times, which keeps me quite busy. My latest routine is to head to Cafe Borrone for their opening at 8am to read all I can before I start to feel guilty about holding a table for too long. I spend my first five minutes there grappling with what to order: waffles, egg scrambles with yummy ingredients, oatmeal, scones, Acme bakery toast. Food decisions overwhelm me, but I find something to order, take my order letter, and wait for delivery. There's the same cast of characters each week. The early birds include three men who seem to work together. They all sit at different tables with their papers (a mix of the Times and the SF Chronicle) and converse with each other across the walking spaces. The staff is pretty much the same on Sundays too. I know they recognize me, but I haven't yet got to the point of knowing anyone's name or they mine, but I like the familiar faces. One guy is just about the nicest restaurant employee I know. He's always happy to see you and will get you whatever you want, and gives you just the right amount of personal space. Then there's the older gentleman that comes in around 10am each week. He is dressed nicely, maybe he's gone to church, and finds a seat by the window. Many of you know that I am a person who does well with rules and routines and this is no exception. I get my two hours each Sunday to start on the paper...I'm trying to discipline myself to read the current news before I get to the fun stuff like Travel and Styles. I am writing to you now from a sunny spot in my living room. Listening to The Wailin' Jennys play on Prairie Home Companion. They make great music. At some point, I'll have to get to my obligations for the day (laundry, cleaning, and schoolwork), but for now, it's nice to partake in the kind of wholesome hours that are refreshing and renewing and help me prepare for what will be a crazy, crazy week, ending with the "loss" of an hour. Yikes!

I hope you are enjoying your weekend.