So, we are making progress in the Golden City.  Alex has a new, lovely and (for SFO) spacious apartment just off of Alamo Square with its famous "Painted Ladies" Victorian townhouses.  The movers come tomorrow at 10:00 A.M.  He has bought enough furniture to get started and we have packed most of his belongings.  Tonight we pack the kitchen.

I was to stroll up to Buena Vista Park to look for birds this a.m. but the sky is drippy.  California is in drought, so rain is viewed positively even in this moist environ.  Instead I tarry at the inn and will wander to Alex's current apartment in a bit and see what he wants to do on this Sunday.

I have breakfasted with folks at the Inn in recent days.  Most are tourists and plan their various excursions to Fisherman's Wharf, Alcatraz, Muir Woods, and the cable cars.  Fun to chat with them, especially the foreigners.  One other parent was here helping her daughter move.  We shared our tales.

Yesterday Alex and I rode to the Pacific coast to shop and enjoyed watching the Pacific with its rough seas.  A strong wind swept cold air over us.  Alex said that the rents were cheaper in that neighborhood.  I said, "yes, and folks here don't need refrigerators."  He added that they had to endure many days of fog too.  The many rows of stucco houses seemed firm and their vegetation was in bloom.  The seaside views make up for the weather perhaps, but this part of San Francisco is somewhat remote from both downtown and the tourists.

Shopping here is difficult as well as expensive.  In spite of the population density stores are mostly too far to walk to.  Alex subscribes to a driving service.  He calls a ride using "an app" that brings a car and driver and bills his account for the ride.  Sometimes a bus or train will do.  All a bit tedius, but I enjoy the sights as we travel about.  This week we will have the challenge of equipping the new apartment with groceries and housewares.  That may require a Zipcar rental.

San Francisco shops love to make things special and expensive.  We went out for ice ream last night.  The attendent mixed up the cream, sugar, and flavorings and put it in a special mixer which injected liquid nitrogen into the material to make a cup of fine product.  Strange brew this town.

Anne has bought an airline ticket and will join me here at the end of the week.  I think I can seduce that girl with sweet words and a bottle of Napa Valley wine.  We will spend several days together and I will return home to take care of buisness there.  She will stay longer to help Alex establish and get started on his course of therapy.  We hope there is a diagnosis this week, but regardless of that he needs start working his hand back into shape.  He is hesitant, fearing relapse of pain and swelling.  The course may be slow, but it has to be steady.  Encouragement is useful.

Our spring RV tour is shot, and this California commuting difficult, but we are enjoying the opportunity to visit this extraordinarilly expensive city with its vibrant youthful population.  Challenges keep one young I suppose, or too busy to worry about one's age.  I miss home, I miss Anne, and I miss my routine.  I prefer the rural environment without the roar, clatter, and honking of the city.  The dirty streets and fragrance from combined sewers is tiresome.  The traffic is fierce and threatening.  Every building has a locked iron gate for security.  But, heck, here I am to enjoy seeing apartments being constructed into the sky, beautiful young women commuting, and restarants and bars at each corner.  Each morning guiests at the inn excitedly discuss their plans for the day.  I smile and wish them a great day.  I will have one too with my son.