Part Three: Our Saturday in San Francisco

Brian on BART, not heeding the warnings of Petula Clark
"Don't sleep on the subway, Darling!"

The walk to the station was easy, the ticketing machines were a little more of a challenge. Luckily Brian had experience with the things and rather than figuring out the fare, just pulled out a twenty and bought me a ticket. “The train will know, and we’ll keep the change.” How magnanimous.

It’s an easy ride under the water of the Bay, through Oakland and Berkeley and onto El Cerito Plaza, where our host, Rebecca and her lovely driver/friend greet us as soon as we get off the train. A five block drive to The Rockway Institute, where Rebecca resides with her housemate, “the Fabulous Laurie Weed, on a lovely tree lined street.

“There’s a drought” Rebecca warns, before I notice her front lawn was a looking a tad thirsty. Yet her neighbor’s lawn was as emerald green as the Centre Court at Wimbledon. I later learned from a fellow guest that the industrious neighbor had laid down synthetic turf, going the extra step of designing a little lift up patch for the water line access. No need to worry about mowing or watering! Rebecca, take note.

In the back of the house, past the steroidal jade trees, waited a verdant garden, a terraced hill side laden with bounty, anchored by an enormous tree. California at it’s finest, and it smelled incredible, too, or was that the food table?

I would like to say that my failure to get any decent photos of the gardens at the institute were totally intentional. I admit it is a blatant attempt on my part to get invited back as soon as possible to remedy the situation. Hopefully it will work. Faithful blog readers will be rewarded, as will the photographer.

We met some wonderful people at the Garden Party. I was expecting to meet Laurie, Rebeca’s housemate, but what I wasn’t expecting was that Laurie was the one, the only, Fabulous Laurie Weed.

I never made the connection. I know of Laurie Weed through Rebecca’s blog as well as Ruby Montana’s, Laurie is the consumate traveller, writer and, why yes, a web blogger too. Her writing puts mine to shame, of course, so should you decide to jump ship and head over to this award winning woman’s, I won’t blame you. I may not forgive you, but I won’t blame you.

The crowd was fun, smart, cute, and yes, well fed. Being foreign visitors, we weren’t expected to bring any home made wonders, so we were off the hook with a handful of sunflowers and a bottle of wine. Life is good in this land.

We had plenty of food, birthday cake, and just a little wine, beer and something called Pirate Port, and lasted well past dark, which I believe is pretty late for a garden party. The locals accused the weather of being nippy and lit a bon fire. Brian and I, acclimated to our wintry clime, reclined in our resort wear.

A fine time was had, and it was written about too. By one of the hosts. I attach here for your pleasure a link to the work of the great word smithee, Rebecca Chekouras, from her blog.

To view the original blog, in context, click here.

you won't regret it.

- - - David