My street on a typical summer day
In my defense, it was 50 DEGREES in San Francisco this past weekend, with the gray sky lurking overhead like a bad conscious. No wonder I was so crabby. Much better now, thank you very much. The sun is out, at least in Menlo Park, and yesterday, after seeking out the sun (see # 17 here) in Marin, we played Tinker Toys and Oliver kept telling me my propeller building was "really kewl" and, I don't know, everything that seemed to be crumbling down, was suddenly ok again. Tender, but ok. And that's how life is when you are a stressed-out, exhausted mom who was pretty moody to begin with, I guess.
Oh, and Italy is back on. A family-free week in Venice on a canal with nothing but my camera, my laptop, and a pair of cute but comfortable walking shoes (any suggestions for this holiest of grails?). I plan to write three novels and a really funny collection of essays. As my friend Brooks said, "A week is nothing in adult time but it's an eternity in mom-time."