"The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco." Mark Twain

My beloved Mr. Urban has been graciously dealing with difficult times. His father is battling the dreaded big C. There are menacing downs and then somewhat hopeful ups, and many many prayers throughout… The past few days have been trying, to say the least. But you wouldn’t know it by looking at Mr. Urban. He is optimistic and relentless in trying to make things better. His demeanor is calm and his eyes are full of hope, I imagine that just looking at him must bring his father a sense that all will be well.

This morning we had a few hours to fill our lungs with fresh air. We quickly packed a simple picnic, a beach ball, a small lawnmower, James Blunt, and a cute toddler into the car and headed to Golden Gate Park. Los Altos was a perfect 75 degrees with sunny blue skies when we left. San Francisco was supposed to be clear and 65 degrees…

But we should have known better than to leave the warm comforts of our town… The park was thickly overcast, windy and cold. We were certainly not dressed for winter, but since there was no turning back, we decided to have our lunch at the park any way. Shivering and blue knuckled, we ate as fast as we could and packed up even faster. I guess god knew that we needed a good laugh!

Since the UrbanToddler and I were such good sports, we were soon rewarded generously with warm creamy lattes (she eats the foam) and desserts at La Boulange, one of our most favorite café’s in the City, where their table of condiments includes huge jars of rustic jams and Nutella… I will say no more!

To Good Health and Spirit!

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