This was the day I have been waiting for since June. I woke up to a beautiful, sunny warm day, but unfortunately I didn't spend much time outdoors. I had my Ollie classes today and hardly went outside, since the Muni streetcar stops underground and I went right into the Westfield Center from the station. On the way home, it was the same.
So, after dinner, the ocean was beckoning me to take a walk.
I left my house a little after 7:00 p.m. and the sun had already set, but it was still light enough. The evening was crispy clear with a little chill in the air, but I could tell the day had been warm. The air smelled so fresh and there was a beautiful red sunset. The ocean waves were a bit choppy, but the beach reminded me a little of Hawaii.
I hurried down to the prominade walk and headed North, parallel to the ocean, but on the east side of the Great Highway. There were still lots of people walking, jogging, cycling and pushing strollers. It seemed like everyone was rushing, however, trying to finish up their exercise before the light faded. I definitelly stepped up my pace trying to reach the stoplight on Lawton, where I turned around to walk back to Noriega. This gave me 6 blocks of walking plus the five I had walked earlier on my return homefrom class.
As I walked up Noriega Street, I was amazed by the activity on the two blocks between 46th to 44th Avenue. There were still people heading towards the beach and more people in the little businesses. The Asian Restaurant, which is usually empty, was full of groups of people dining leisurely. Next door at the Pizza Place, young people (in their 20's or 30's) were sitting at the bar chatting while others enjoyed their pizza dinners at little tables. Across the street at Noriega Produce, the vegetable guy was busily putting away the fruit and vegetable stands that line the outside of the store--he didn't even look up as I passed. The Tacos Restaurant had a few people inside, and the coffee shop was busy also--a gray-haired lady sat in the window relaxing with her glass of wine. Next was the wood shop, where they apparently make surf boards. I have never seen anyone in the wood shop when I have walked by, but tonight there were several men talking in the front part of the shop. The Veterinary Clinic was closed, but outside the pub a few people were hanging out chatting. Then on the next block were two men talking about the little pooch that one of the men had on a leash.
It was an amazing evening. Having a beautiful sunny day really changes people's moods and everyone is more friendly. Please can we have some more days like this.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
My wild goose chase day.
This afternoon was my class in "Healing and Art" downtown. I thought I'd be expedient by driving my car to the Forest Hill area, parking and taking the streetcar. I did get down to the Westfield Center in about 15 minutes from my parked car, purchased some tea and took the elevator to the sixth floor. When the class was finished at 2:30 I hurried to the elevator with two other students and went to the underground Muni station to board an L, M, or K streetcar going back to Forest Hill. The J streetcar came first and my two friends got on chatting. I don't think they noticed that an Announcer on the P.A. system was telling all the passengers that there was some kind of problem at the Civic Center Station and that the muni cars would be held up for a while. The J-car just sat there with the doors open while my friends were chatting inside. I made a split-second decision to go up on top and catch a 71 bus. I rushed up the stairs and then up to Powell Street on the elevator. A bunch of school age boys saw me and said to their friend who was trying to get ahead of me, "Let the Senior Citizen go first." Boy that made me feel great. I guess I shouldn't be rushing so.
Outside, it was a beautiful sunny day, with people walking and busy going about their business. I turned towards the bus stop area and there was my 71. I looked carefully at the truck stopped at the stop sign, put my hand up and squeezed between him and the car in front just in time to board my bus. When I got on I heard a voice calling-- "Beverley". It sounded like my son and sure enough, there he was motioning to me to come to the back of the bus. While we were riding I told him about the hang-up at the Civic Center, and then all of a sudden I remembered that I left my car at Forest Hll Station. How was I going to get there? Kevin helped me out.
First we got off on Castro Street to catch the 43, but it drove right passed us. Then we crossed the street and a Parnassus Bus came along which we took to Cole Street and got off. There was a little time between buses so we went across the street at Cole and Parnassus and got some coffee and pastries. Another 43 went by and we figured there was 12 minutes between buses, so we finished our little snack and caught the next 43. Then in front of U.C. Parnassus, my daughter's aunt-in-law, Mary, boarded the bus. We chatted for awhile and then Mary hitched a ride with us when we finally got back to Forest Hill Station.
Well, it only took me two hours to get home, but it was an interesting two hours riding through the Haight Ashbury and Cole Valley neighborhoods with beautiful tree-lined streets and Victorian Houses. We dropped Mary off and I went home to my little house in the fog. Now I have to get ready to do this traveling all over again. I am going downtown in an hour to the Opera House to hear Turandot.
Outside, it was a beautiful sunny day, with people walking and busy going about their business. I turned towards the bus stop area and there was my 71. I looked carefully at the truck stopped at the stop sign, put my hand up and squeezed between him and the car in front just in time to board my bus. When I got on I heard a voice calling-- "Beverley". It sounded like my son and sure enough, there he was motioning to me to come to the back of the bus. While we were riding I told him about the hang-up at the Civic Center, and then all of a sudden I remembered that I left my car at Forest Hll Station. How was I going to get there? Kevin helped me out.
First we got off on Castro Street to catch the 43, but it drove right passed us. Then we crossed the street and a Parnassus Bus came along which we took to Cole Street and got off. There was a little time between buses so we went across the street at Cole and Parnassus and got some coffee and pastries. Another 43 went by and we figured there was 12 minutes between buses, so we finished our little snack and caught the next 43. Then in front of U.C. Parnassus, my daughter's aunt-in-law, Mary, boarded the bus. We chatted for awhile and then Mary hitched a ride with us when we finally got back to Forest Hill Station.
Well, it only took me two hours to get home, but it was an interesting two hours riding through the Haight Ashbury and Cole Valley neighborhoods with beautiful tree-lined streets and Victorian Houses. We dropped Mary off and I went home to my little house in the fog. Now I have to get ready to do this traveling all over again. I am going downtown in an hour to the Opera House to hear Turandot.
Monday, September 19, 2011
On starting back to fall classes
Last week was the beginning of fall classes at Ollie (the Osher Life Long Learning Institute for people over 50 years old). The online list of classes sounded so interesting, I signed up for four classes on Tuesday and Thursday. On Tuesday morning bright and early I got up and headed out the door. I talked my husband into driving me to West Portal Station so I could save time getting downtown. If I walked from my home to the streetcar and then rode it to the West Portal Tunnel, it would take me 45 minutes or so. This way, it takes ten minutes to get to the tunnel and another 10 minutes to get to the Westfield Center. Very Efficient.
My husband let me out and said "Don't run." He knows I like to run for streetcars, so I obeyed--I skipped. How defiant. I felt like a school child walking with my blue lunch bag I had packed to save money and my new folder to take notes in class. It felt like a new beginning after the lazy days of summer (well I don't remember much summer, it was mostly foggy.)
My first class was very intriguing--I was spellbound listening to the Professor talk about Politics and Religion. He is very knowledgeable and funny and talks from years of experience teaching political science. I took lots of notes--I couldn't help it.
After my simple lunch, sitting with some other students, we were ready to start our next class--Views from Behind the Walls and Beyond. This is about our California prison system, which I wanted to delve into since I correspond with a relative who is incarcerated in San Quentin. This class should help me understand the political and other issues facing our prison system. I think I am aware of some of the personal issues, but I want to hear from someone who worked there.
On Thursday, I was signed up for the Joy of Choral Singing, but since only six people signed up, the class was cancelled. This was disappointing since it was actually the main class I wanted to take. I really love to sing, but apparently the other Ollie members are a little intimidated. I had signed up for a Ballet Class last year, but it had to be cancelled the next semester, because only a few people had the courage to dance. Why don't more "over 50's" want to sing and dance?
My last class is about "An Artistic History of Medicine." I'm interested, but the lights are turned down in order to see the photos of art work on the screen, and after the break, I fell asleep. I think I was tired since I had walked all the way from the Civic Center where I had procured my mother's death certificate at the Health Dept. I also had walked all through Nordstrom's waiting for the class to start. Unfortunately, I had gotten my time mixed up, and was a half an hour late for the class. I'd better plan ahead this week. I don't want to waste my time sleeping in class.
My rides home are interesting. The first day I took the 71 bus which goes down Haight Street and then across Irving on 23rd avenue to Noriega. It's fun to watch the people come on and off the bus. There were two older couples who boarded the bus who spoke with an accent--maybe Russian. They were carrying bouquets of flowers and reminded me of our bus ride inVilnius--Many of the Lithuanians were carrying flowers on the bus ride home to their tall apartment complexes at the edge of the city. I kept wondering if it was a custom or just a way to brighten the day.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow's classes.
My husband let me out and said "Don't run." He knows I like to run for streetcars, so I obeyed--I skipped. How defiant. I felt like a school child walking with my blue lunch bag I had packed to save money and my new folder to take notes in class. It felt like a new beginning after the lazy days of summer (well I don't remember much summer, it was mostly foggy.)
My first class was very intriguing--I was spellbound listening to the Professor talk about Politics and Religion. He is very knowledgeable and funny and talks from years of experience teaching political science. I took lots of notes--I couldn't help it.
After my simple lunch, sitting with some other students, we were ready to start our next class--Views from Behind the Walls and Beyond. This is about our California prison system, which I wanted to delve into since I correspond with a relative who is incarcerated in San Quentin. This class should help me understand the political and other issues facing our prison system. I think I am aware of some of the personal issues, but I want to hear from someone who worked there.
On Thursday, I was signed up for the Joy of Choral Singing, but since only six people signed up, the class was cancelled. This was disappointing since it was actually the main class I wanted to take. I really love to sing, but apparently the other Ollie members are a little intimidated. I had signed up for a Ballet Class last year, but it had to be cancelled the next semester, because only a few people had the courage to dance. Why don't more "over 50's" want to sing and dance?
My last class is about "An Artistic History of Medicine." I'm interested, but the lights are turned down in order to see the photos of art work on the screen, and after the break, I fell asleep. I think I was tired since I had walked all the way from the Civic Center where I had procured my mother's death certificate at the Health Dept. I also had walked all through Nordstrom's waiting for the class to start. Unfortunately, I had gotten my time mixed up, and was a half an hour late for the class. I'd better plan ahead this week. I don't want to waste my time sleeping in class.
My rides home are interesting. The first day I took the 71 bus which goes down Haight Street and then across Irving on 23rd avenue to Noriega. It's fun to watch the people come on and off the bus. There were two older couples who boarded the bus who spoke with an accent--maybe Russian. They were carrying bouquets of flowers and reminded me of our bus ride inVilnius--Many of the Lithuanians were carrying flowers on the bus ride home to their tall apartment complexes at the edge of the city. I kept wondering if it was a custom or just a way to brighten the day.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow's classes.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
On going to the river
Labor Day weekend has just passed and I have returned home again from the cabin. I was planning on staying in the city for the weekend to rest and get ready for our next trip, but my daughter talked me into going to the cabin instead. I rode up with Nora and her family in their car. Bill had driven up on Thursday and Kevin was also up there with his friends. The weather was perfect--sunny and warm.
On Sunday, everyone, but my husband, decided to go to the river. I didn't ask which river, so I was surprised to find we were driving in the opposite direction I had anticipated. We drove down Middle Camp and then turned off going down, down in a river canyon. We passed a bridge and then I realized the place looked familiar. This was the Stanislaus River and many years before I took the kids down there in our Chevy van to pick blackberries. The same road-dusty blackberry bushes were growing near the river. We drove on for a few hundred feet and John found a parking spot. The other car with Kevin and his friends arrived shortly thereafter.
We all got out of our cars and followed John down the road. Nora carried Caitlin and the lunch. I had my water bottle and a towel. I had no idea where we were headed, but after a quarter of a mile or so, we turned off the road and headed down to the water. We then started crossing the river at a shallow spot that was covered with large rocks and pepples. I didn't trust the rocks, so I just walked in the water with my sandals. On the other side Nora and I avoided the rocks and walked through the forested area arriving at a beautiful pool of water. It was a fairly large pool for a river and it looked like it was man-made. At the lower end there were boulders in place that held back the water. There was also a rope over the pool with a trolly for jumping into the water. At the upper end of the pool was a tree with a ladder placed against the tree where the rope was tied. This is where we decided to sit.
Everyone found a comfortable spot and some of the group tried getting into the water, gasping and shivering when submerged--it was very cold. I decided to try it--after all I went swimming in Lake Tahoe the week after it snowed there. Well, when I got in, it was cold, but I decided to stay and swam around for a half an hour or so finally sitting in a little pool of churning water--just like a hot tub only cold. It was very beautiful there, although shady. After a couple of hours, we started back.
I followed everyone, walking very gingerly over the rocks in my water sandals. I was looking where I was stepping, but suddenly my left foot slipped. I tried to get my balance but I felt I was falling in slow motion. I landed on my left side--my hip hit the rocks first, then my left arm, and lastly my head jolted onto a rock in a little crevice.
Nora was right behind me and came to my rescue. I didn't want people to worry so I tried to get up. My head was spinning, so Nora told me to sit on a rock and rest. I got up after a couple of minutes, because I just wanted to move on. Then Kevin came and guided me through the rest of the river. When we got to the road, I felt okay--I could just walk normally.
The next day I was bruised on my arm and hip, but my head felt okay. When I thought about what had happened, I realized that every time we went to that river, there was a mishap. The first time, years ago, the van got stuck in a ditch when I tried to back up. A kind, dusty, woodsman, with a very dusty truck with a winch on it, pulled the van out. Then, two years ago, when John went down there with Brendan, John lost his shoe and sprained or broke his ankle. Then, this time, both Nora and I fell and I injured myself. It's a beautiful river, but I'd better think twice about going again.
On Sunday, everyone, but my husband, decided to go to the river. I didn't ask which river, so I was surprised to find we were driving in the opposite direction I had anticipated. We drove down Middle Camp and then turned off going down, down in a river canyon. We passed a bridge and then I realized the place looked familiar. This was the Stanislaus River and many years before I took the kids down there in our Chevy van to pick blackberries. The same road-dusty blackberry bushes were growing near the river. We drove on for a few hundred feet and John found a parking spot. The other car with Kevin and his friends arrived shortly thereafter.
We all got out of our cars and followed John down the road. Nora carried Caitlin and the lunch. I had my water bottle and a towel. I had no idea where we were headed, but after a quarter of a mile or so, we turned off the road and headed down to the water. We then started crossing the river at a shallow spot that was covered with large rocks and pepples. I didn't trust the rocks, so I just walked in the water with my sandals. On the other side Nora and I avoided the rocks and walked through the forested area arriving at a beautiful pool of water. It was a fairly large pool for a river and it looked like it was man-made. At the lower end there were boulders in place that held back the water. There was also a rope over the pool with a trolly for jumping into the water. At the upper end of the pool was a tree with a ladder placed against the tree where the rope was tied. This is where we decided to sit.
Everyone found a comfortable spot and some of the group tried getting into the water, gasping and shivering when submerged--it was very cold. I decided to try it--after all I went swimming in Lake Tahoe the week after it snowed there. Well, when I got in, it was cold, but I decided to stay and swam around for a half an hour or so finally sitting in a little pool of churning water--just like a hot tub only cold. It was very beautiful there, although shady. After a couple of hours, we started back.
I followed everyone, walking very gingerly over the rocks in my water sandals. I was looking where I was stepping, but suddenly my left foot slipped. I tried to get my balance but I felt I was falling in slow motion. I landed on my left side--my hip hit the rocks first, then my left arm, and lastly my head jolted onto a rock in a little crevice.
Nora was right behind me and came to my rescue. I didn't want people to worry so I tried to get up. My head was spinning, so Nora told me to sit on a rock and rest. I got up after a couple of minutes, because I just wanted to move on. Then Kevin came and guided me through the rest of the river. When we got to the road, I felt okay--I could just walk normally.
The next day I was bruised on my arm and hip, but my head felt okay. When I thought about what had happened, I realized that every time we went to that river, there was a mishap. The first time, years ago, the van got stuck in a ditch when I tried to back up. A kind, dusty, woodsman, with a very dusty truck with a winch on it, pulled the van out. Then, two years ago, when John went down there with Brendan, John lost his shoe and sprained or broke his ankle. Then, this time, both Nora and I fell and I injured myself. It's a beautiful river, but I'd better think twice about going again.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Jury Duty
Last week I was summoned for jury duty. It had been a few years since I was last called, so I thought it might be interesting. Besides it was my duty as a citizen. So, with a great deal of commitment, I arose early each morning so I could be on time to the courthouse in Civic Center. The first day, Bill drove me to West Portal Station, where I boarded a street car headed downtown. Arriving in the jury room, I secretly wished I wouldn't be picked, but sure enough, I was picked in the first batch to go to a court room. Then I was the fourth person picked to sit on the panel, and I was never removed through the long interrogation process.
So each day I left the house and walked the one and a half blocks to the bus stop in the early morning fog. I took the 16 express which was a very pleasant and expedient ride to the Civic Center. I arrived early, had my cup of coffee and then went upstairs to my court room. It was almost like going to work again.
I concentrated very hard, and took notes on the steno pad they gave us. After awhile, I was beginning to realize that it would be difficult to make a decision. It appeared as though the Plaintiff had a case and the Defendant's case was very weak. I really felt a lot of compassion for the defendant, but in the end the Plaintiff won. It was the big corporate guy against the poor underdog. Almost the entire panel voted with the Plaintiff but we all felt so sorry for the defendant. I walked out of the courtroom not looking at anyone. The Plaintiff's lawyer was smiling, but I could hardly smile back since I felt very depressed about the decision made. I hope the defendant is able to
get some help to start her life anew.
The main thing I learned from this trial is to document carefully all your transactions and to communicate clearly what it is you want to do. If you are having difficulties, don't feel embarassed to ask for help. Pride can be deadly.
So each day I left the house and walked the one and a half blocks to the bus stop in the early morning fog. I took the 16 express which was a very pleasant and expedient ride to the Civic Center. I arrived early, had my cup of coffee and then went upstairs to my court room. It was almost like going to work again.
I concentrated very hard, and took notes on the steno pad they gave us. After awhile, I was beginning to realize that it would be difficult to make a decision. It appeared as though the Plaintiff had a case and the Defendant's case was very weak. I really felt a lot of compassion for the defendant, but in the end the Plaintiff won. It was the big corporate guy against the poor underdog. Almost the entire panel voted with the Plaintiff but we all felt so sorry for the defendant. I walked out of the courtroom not looking at anyone. The Plaintiff's lawyer was smiling, but I could hardly smile back since I felt very depressed about the decision made. I hope the defendant is able to
get some help to start her life anew.
The main thing I learned from this trial is to document carefully all your transactions and to communicate clearly what it is you want to do. If you are having difficulties, don't feel embarassed to ask for help. Pride can be deadly.
Other Neighborhoods
Last weekend, my oldest son and two friends drove here from Oregon to attend a "Giants" baseball game. My youngest son, Dave, planned to take them on a walking tour on the way to the stadium, and at the last minute I decided to join them. I was so glad I did since I experienced a part of S.F. I never had before.
We left my house at ten in the morning walking down the wet streets in the drizzly fog. The 18 Sloat came fairly quickly so we boarded it and then transferred to the bus on Sloat Blvd. riding it all the way to Monterey Blvd where our walk started at the Sunnyside Conservatory.
The Conservatory was just reopened about a year ago and I've been wanting to see it. The gardens are open, but the actual building is only used for community events or can be rented for weddings. We peeked through the window of the building to see beautiful tiled floors and a chandelier--it is small inside but beautiful. The garden is very relaxing to walk through, but we didn't stay long. We headed out the gate and then onward and upward. I can't really describe the walk exactly, because I can hardly remember where we were. In fact, at times, I looked around and did not know where we were--it was all new to me. I do remember walking up a very lovely dirt path with houses on either side and beautiful flowering plants and bushes peaking out and over fences. We stopped to look at the plants and Joe seemed to be able to identify them. We also stopped to check out a block yard sale, talking to the neighbors and cats, and examining items. Joe bought a plastic inflatable earth which he will use for his first grade students.
At some point we crossed O'Shaunessy Blvd and also Mission Street. The entire walk was through narrow streets, alleys, walkways, stairs with beautiful foliage and quaint homes. I had been through all these neighborhoods but never really saw them until I went on foot.
On Mission Street, we stopped at the Lelenita Bakery, where they sell special wedding and birthday cakes. I went in looking for cookies, but they only had some corn and cheese crackers from Guatamala. They rest of the group bought papusas at the restaurant two doors down and we then walked to Holly Park to eat them while looking at a view of the city and the downtown business area in the distance. After filling our bellies and feeling refreshed we headed out again, ending our walk at Precita Park.
By the end of the walk, I was very tired and my muscles were sore, but the sun was out and it was a beautiful day in the Bernal Heights area. I bought a cappacino and waited on a bench outside the coffee shop until my husband picked me up. The group all split up here--David went to pick up a friend and the other three took a bus to the ballpark.
Bill and I went to the 49er game. The day ended in thick, drizzley fog with the 49er second string losing the game and the Giants winning--but that's another story.
We left my house at ten in the morning walking down the wet streets in the drizzly fog. The 18 Sloat came fairly quickly so we boarded it and then transferred to the bus on Sloat Blvd. riding it all the way to Monterey Blvd where our walk started at the Sunnyside Conservatory.
The Conservatory was just reopened about a year ago and I've been wanting to see it. The gardens are open, but the actual building is only used for community events or can be rented for weddings. We peeked through the window of the building to see beautiful tiled floors and a chandelier--it is small inside but beautiful. The garden is very relaxing to walk through, but we didn't stay long. We headed out the gate and then onward and upward. I can't really describe the walk exactly, because I can hardly remember where we were. In fact, at times, I looked around and did not know where we were--it was all new to me. I do remember walking up a very lovely dirt path with houses on either side and beautiful flowering plants and bushes peaking out and over fences. We stopped to look at the plants and Joe seemed to be able to identify them. We also stopped to check out a block yard sale, talking to the neighbors and cats, and examining items. Joe bought a plastic inflatable earth which he will use for his first grade students.
At some point we crossed O'Shaunessy Blvd and also Mission Street. The entire walk was through narrow streets, alleys, walkways, stairs with beautiful foliage and quaint homes. I had been through all these neighborhoods but never really saw them until I went on foot.
On Mission Street, we stopped at the Lelenita Bakery, where they sell special wedding and birthday cakes. I went in looking for cookies, but they only had some corn and cheese crackers from Guatamala. They rest of the group bought papusas at the restaurant two doors down and we then walked to Holly Park to eat them while looking at a view of the city and the downtown business area in the distance. After filling our bellies and feeling refreshed we headed out again, ending our walk at Precita Park.
By the end of the walk, I was very tired and my muscles were sore, but the sun was out and it was a beautiful day in the Bernal Heights area. I bought a cappacino and waited on a bench outside the coffee shop until my husband picked me up. The group all split up here--David went to pick up a friend and the other three took a bus to the ballpark.
Bill and I went to the 49er game. The day ended in thick, drizzley fog with the 49er second string losing the game and the Giants winning--but that's another story.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)