September Happenings
San Francisco has a piece of my heart. I am thrilled at the thought of a city day. We had one, a city day, this month wherein we spent the day in San Francisco. We have decided to spend days in the city passing out tracts or pinning up small single-pocket boxes of tracts. We have not had much luck with putting routes in place in SF. So, we picked a part of town we have not frequented and set off walking. (The agenda is to explore every nook and cranny of this fascinating city and leave a trail of tracts behind us.) First stop was the French Arsicault Bakery. You must wait in line on the sidewalk and when there is a space for you in their tiny shop, they motion you in. The lines can be exceedingly long at this place, but thankfully we were some of the early birds. We shared croissants and a cappuccino. You do know that cappuccinos and croissants were made for each other, right? Arsicault Bakery was once named the “Best New Bakery in America.” Sure enough, the croissants were worth the hype. Award-winning, flaky, and altogether buttery. I was dusting croissant flakes out of the boy’s hair and off my sweater for the rest of the day.
When in San Francisco, I often feel like I am in another country. The steep streets, the architecture, the houses built smack up against each other, bougainvillea crawling over fences and houses, cable cars running down the streets, corner cafes, and hole-in-the-wall shops. I love looking down every street we pass because you can often see glimpses of the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz, or the sparkling bay waters between the high rises.
SF.
We found lunch in Chinatown. There are a lot of eating places down there. Most places have a person or two out front beckoning you in with the most persuasive tones. Everyone wants your business. We chose Hon’s Wun-Tun House. You could stand by the window and watch the ladies' making dumplings. I had a delicious Wun-Tun noodle soup that had dumplings in it. I am not exactly sure what kind of meat was in those dumplings, and I did not want to look. I just ate it, and it was better than it looked. They will bring to your table little tea cups with saucers and your own little tea pot full of tea as well. Stopped at another little shop in Chinatown for a famous egg tart. A delicious custard-like tart. The shop, just like so many others, was so tiny and so full. The owner sat on a little wooden stool out front and was perfectly delighted to serve us an egg tart from the window case.
China Town.
We ended our day by the bay. The day was full of sun, 75°, and perfectly balmy. Lots of people were out for a stroll, biking, sunbathing, and eating dreamy cupfuls of Ghirardelli ice cream. (Ghirardelli ice cream originated in SF.) The views of the beautiful San Francisco Bay from Ghirardelli Square are just splendid.
Ghirardelli Square.
We met Troy and Kayla at a favorite BBQ restaurant of Brent’s in Sacramento one evening. (Good BBQ is hard to find here.) Spent the rest of the evening solving life’s problems in a cozy coffee shop while the kids low-key terrorized the place. Well, let us just say they did not sit quietly in one place while the adults visited. A week later, Troy and Kayla came to spend a Saturday with us. We had brunch at our place before heading into the hills to the Tilden Park Steam Train. (I have written about it before.) It is an adorable little train that gives you a ride through the Redwoods. It was damp, drippy, and cool in the woods. Ventured on down the road to the vintage carousel and the animal farm. The kids enjoyed it all, as did we adults. The views of the Bay Area from up there in the hills are simply spectacular! It was a clear, sunny day wherein we kept taking off our sweaters and then a short while later we were donning them again. Brent and Troy were slightly hyped about supper, which was a delightful experience indeed. Grilled tri tip that had been poured over, patted, seasoned, babied, and cooked to perfection. Took a three-mile walk after supper and happened past Tommy sitting at his bus station home. All too soon we stood on the front step waving goodbye to Troy’s.
The Steam Train at Tilden Park.
Speaking of Tommy, the homeless man I wrote about in my last letter, Brent helped him build a hitch on his wagon the other day. He was thrilled to tell us one day that someone had given him a wagon and now he does not have to pile his bike trailer so high as he can carry some of his stuff in the wagon. But, since he had his trailer hooked to his bike, he had to walk beside his bike and pull his new wagon. This was a lot of work for him, as he depends on his bike to get him places. So, Brent built him a hitch on the back of his bike trailer for him to hook his new wagon to. He was very impressed and so happy that he could once again ride his bike.
We had a houseful of seventeen people for Sunday service this month. A fun group of Princeton and Glenn people.
Curt, Lois, and their son Josh also joined us for a zucchini lasagna supper one evening. We loved having them here, but the boys were sad we were not going to Curt’s house instead. We did stop by there one morning to pick a bunch of raspberries and grapes. The raspberries were giving their last crop of the season, and I could hardly make myself stop picking. We have greatly enjoyed the grapes this year as well.
We took a couple of days off for our seventh wedding anniversary and headed toward the coast. After a very impressive and dramatic drive down Hwy 1, we arrived at our little cottage by the shimmering sea. (Yeah, I know, I’m skipping all the details of the impressive and dramatic drive down Hwy 1, but words truly fail me in this matter.)
A lot of the coastline we drove along looked like this picture above. There were also quite a lot of cattle grazing right by the sea. Their pastures ended at the edge of a very steep sea cliff, and made me think of Scotland or such places.
Our little cottage was number ten of twelve. Situated on a little country farm just across the road and far above the sea. It was quiet, peaceful, and altogether serene. We plucked a little wicker basket from our cottage and jaunted off first thing for the gardens. There was a flower garden and a vegetable garden from which we were allowed to harvest to our heart’s delight. We did just that. Soon we had a bouquet of dahlias and strawflowers, freshly picked strawberries for atop our yogurt and granola for breakfast, and a delicious salad to pair with our grilled pork chops for supper. Fit for kings, they said. We got to pet and feed the miniature goats, feed the chickens, gather colorful eggs, and give cookies to the rabbits. After supper, we opened a little green garden gate and followed a trail across the road and through the woods, down some very steep wooden steps that hugged the cliffside and finally arrived at our own private little beach. Not to overstimulate you or anything here, but there was also a little creek that ran behind our cottage, crossed the road, gurgled through the woods, fell down the rocky cliffside, and landed right on the sandy beach where we stood. I pinched myself inwardly as I attempted to take it all in. The water was wondrously clear, ethereal blue, and icy cold. A kind of dreamy beauty one does not forget very soon. My gaze was summoned numerous times on the way back up the steps by the sunset colors drenching the sea, the calm and glassy sea, the pristine beach catching the waterfall, and the rocky coastline jutting out into the sea. Upon arrival back at the cottage, we donned some warm layers and built a fire. S’mores and coffee, anyone? We ended up turning our little fireplace on in the cottage, as it got quite damp and cool, before falling asleep to the sound of the waves kissing a seashore far below. The next day, a glorious sunny morning dawned. The curtains fluttered with a sea-drenched breeze, and I thought I might like to stay forever. We found fresh eggs of every color nestled in a little basket on our front porch. After breakfast, we ventured on down Hwy 1 to Mendocino. Stopped and got stuff for a picnic lunch before hiking out to Point Cabrillo Lighthouse and spending some time at the Russian Gulch State Park. The following day found us bound for the city once again. It was certainly worth every penny to get out in the country and breathe in some refreshing sea air. The boys also had the time of their lives roaming around the little farm and playing with the animals.
Point Cabrillo Lighthouse. 
Russian Gulch Bridge.
We spent a very overdue weekend with Shawn and Eddie in Glenn. They were in walnut harvest, so we got in on some harvest time. Brent also got to go with Shawn and his son Karson on a hay run Saturday morning. They left at about 3:30 am and arrived back home by lunchtime. The boys enjoyed ranger rides, hanging out at the walnut huller, and a ride in Karson’s truck. Sunday night found us accepting plans after church and then heading home at a rather late hour.
This month seems to have flown by, but at the same time, it seems it was never-ending. We did our overnight route to Reno this month as well. I was dreading it just a bit because it is a lot of time for two little boys to spend in their seats. Plus it did not work for Troy and Kayla to go with us this time, which was disappointing. But we set off for the mountains, crossed the beautiful Donner Pass, and got quite a few of our stops done before checking into our motel. Motels are a lot of fun at this stage in our lives. (Lol.) The boys just thrill at the news of our arrival at a MOTEL. We crack the door open to our room and Ezra peers around inside and says, “Oooh boyyy!” And oh boy is right. From microwaving the TV remote until it melts, to attempting to flush the alarm clock down the toilet, to turning the TV on, to jumping on the beds, to turning the AC on full blast…. It is all a very good time. The next day we finished our routes, and my amazing, patient, and super kind husband took me thrifting. (I will love him forever.) Thrifting in Reno turned out to be ever so much fun. For me. Elliot and Ezra loved it as well, as they terrorized the toy section and their dad nearly pulled his hair out in despair. (Thrift stores are the only places they are allowed to mess with the toys.) Now Elliot begs to go back to the yucky stores with the dirty toys, and I am quite sure he overheard some mutterings from his dear father about such stores. On the way home we stopped in Truckee for lunch. Such a beautiful place. A few fall colors were just starting to pop on the mountainsides. It was good to arrive home safely in Oakley.
Brent has been trying to spend one day a week walking downtown in different areas pinning up single-pocket tract boxes and leaving a few GT magnets here and there. He would also like to spend some time riding the Bart and handing out tracts as well, but we shall see if he gets time for that. (The Bart is the train that runs around here between cities.)
Ok, this is a good share of what September held for us. Until next time…
