I don’t have a lot of time to write. We’re heading to Humboldt to visit Scott’s Aunt Liz any minute. In fact, I should be in the shower, beginning to deconstruct the rat’s nest that has become my hair, but I will do almost anything to postpone that; like eat sourdough bread and listen to the ‘fridgerator. I wanted to write a few things down because I am here now and soon I’ll be gone.
I am always comfortable in Basia’s house no matter where she lives. She is calming to be around. We sleep in, eat our meals slowly and take longer showers. Your bones get cold here. I know that feeling from the fog that comes at home; like the mist that gathers near the water can actually seep into your pours until you are forced to dissolve it with hot water. This is that same cold, but magnified and lingering.
The beginning of this trip has required some napping. We need to hibernate a little because our sleep reserve has become all but empty. But this trip has space for things like that and I am grateful because this is just what Scott and I need right now. And that is the best thing of all about traveling to me; that you get to do it the way you want.
Yesterday we went to Dolores Park. A guy gave me a tip about working in the bushings on my skateboard, which confirms my recent suspicion that even though they occasionally look intimidating, skateboarders like people. On the way home, I saw a lady relieve herself on the sidewalk just before the convenience store we went in to buy chips and salsa. I almost skated into her because I was focused on negotiating the cracks in the driveway. There’s a picture above, but it has been censored. She looked at me with her eye that didn’t have a band-aid and said “This is why all the cars on this street have scratches.”
On The Fourth of July we hiked to Bernal Heights. We watched the fireworks down at the Embarcadero at 10 o’clock because that is when it was finally dark enough. Scott, Basia and Phil ate a second dinner. The fragrance of bacon wrapped hot dogs pulled them in.
Now we are on our way to Humboldt where the trees are taller. I haven’t seen a river in a while and I’ve heard we will see a few. I have reverted back to childhood habits of wanting to change my clothes every two hours and forty-five minutes. But in my defense, the landscape in changing around here all the time and I want to mimic it.
In some way, everything seems new to me, because even if I’ve seen a tall tree before, I haven’t seen it as the person I am now.