All My Important Things

by

Are exactly where they are supposed to be.

They are in bins and boxes, plastic bags, stacked, packed, and ready for the dust.

I got it all here.

Including myself.

I am in San Francisco.

The bike, the bag, the computer, the playa bike, the boxes, bins, and tins, all in the back of my employers garage to be loaded into their vehicle sometime tomorrow.

I am done.

I am still a little astounded that it all, including me, got here before 11 p.m. tonight.

After I dropped the man at the BART I dashed back to Graceland, finished the coffee, finished the one small load of laundry, brought down the rest of the clothes and small electronics that I always bring (my IHome cube music player, which I adore, and goes every year, the rechargeable battery thing–I will take loads of photos–my camera is ready, and all the little cords to recharge the laptop and the phone.), stacked them all in the back of the employers car, drove to Emeryville, got lost, but still managed to be five minutes early to work, put down the monkey pie for her nap, wrote last nights blog, and ate my lunch.

Whew.

After my little pumpkin woke up and she had her lunch and some time to adjust to being awake, I packed her up and we drove her papa’s car into the city to drop my stuff at the Cole Valley house.

I actually backed into the driveway as the mom and her little boy were strolling around the corner.

I hollered out, got shown were to put my stuffs, confirmed my arrival time this evening, and my start time for tomorrow morning–9:30 a.m.

Then I drove back, sans stuff, to Emeryville, made a trip to the bank, to let them know I was changing address, not Black Rock City, but the Sunset, and got a new check register.

Then one last trip to the park with my ladybug.

Who today.

Today.

Said my name.

And I love you.

I just died.

Kid you’re killing me.

Of course unless you speak her language you may not recognize my name, but her dad did later, and I totally got what she was saying and then she clearly said I love you.

More than once.

More the twice.

It was so nice.

My heart just got a little bigger thinking about it.

She was just such a peach today.

I am enamored.

It is true.

I did not say good-bye to her in any kind of formal way, I will still likely have her in the city once a week and I am, fingers crossed, hoping for more than that, but I won’t be going out to her house any more.

I will miss rocking her in her room, the sound of the noise machine set low to ocean surf, reading her books and snuggling before nap time.

I will miss putting Pandora on to the Scissor Sister’s channel and dancing around the kitchen like a maniac with her giggling in my arms as we spin across the floor.

I will miss putting her hair up in little pony tail poofs.

“Who did your baby hair?” A little girl with the most audacious set of braids I have seen in sometime, asked me today at the park.

I have to say, I rather proudly responded, “I did,” and smiled.

“They look good!” She exclaimed.

“Thank you,” I said and scooped up the little ladybug to go head back to the house.

“Home!” She said.

Then, “my turn, push,” she meant the stroller.

She leaned forward, grasped the push bar with her two little wee paws and I held her, Superman style, straight and flat, arms around her little waist, with her legs sticking out behind and we pushed her stroller down the sidewalk to her house giggling at our silliness.

The child has an outrageous sense of humor and some of the best comedic timing in a kid I have ever seen.

And she’s not even two!

After her pops got back we settled up and I grabbed my bicycle, headed to BART and hit it to the city.

I had a moment when I almost turned to ride toward Graceland and not the BART, then shook it off, and went to MacArthur Station.

Off at 16th, deposit the check to the bank, head to Whole Foods, where I practiced amazing restraint and only got a small salad, a bottle of water, and apple, a banana for the oatmeal tomorrow and a small container of yogurt.

Up the hill and over to Vermont and Mariposa where I saw some folks, ate my salad and made plans to see some friends who are also headed up tomorrow.

I already have plans to be somewhere 8p.m. on Saturday night.

Thank God for friends.

A few more hugs, then back on the bicycle and off into the fog.

I marvelled at the fog, I won’t be seeing any for a few weeks, and thought how it’s all happening, it’s all falling right smack into place, pedaled from Potrero Hill through the Mission, cutting up to the Castro to hit the Wiggle, on to the Pan Handle, through the park, which at night always reminds me of a scene out of CS Lewis’s The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, all the lamp posts, tall trees, curlicues of fog, and then over Haight Street, crossing to Cole and up to Frederick.

And voila!

Here I am in Cole Valley, typing away.

My last blog from San Francisco for three weeks.

I don’t know what my internet connection is going to be like where I am camping this year, fingers crossed I will get me some access.

But I do know I will do what I do, and that is write every night and if I can’t get a blog posted, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t written.

I’ll be posting when I can, but writing every day, just like I do anyway.

Most of the time.

One more cup of tea, a little light snack, and off to bed I go.

Tomorrow is suddenly here.

Less than an hour away.

You’ll hear from me next in Reno.

Blog postcards from the playa soon to come.

 

 

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