Monthly Archives: August 2011

Shasta on the dock of the bay

Today was one of the loveliest days weather-wise that I’ve seen in San Francisco. 70, sunny, and not too much fog. I piled Shasta into the car and we drove the 2 miles to the bay at the end of … Continue reading

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Mary Ruth

She hated to be called Mary Ruth. She worked hard to shed her Southern accent, and as a result, I don’t have one either. She was proud and vain, even in death; she asked to wear white gloves in her … Continue reading

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The Summer of Gertrude Stein

It started in May. As I walked the sidewalks near my office on Mission and Third, mysterious hand-lettered cardboard signs began to appear at the intersections, taped to the walls, reading: “Gertrude Stein was here.” The signs were homemade enough … Continue reading

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August in Atlanta

It’s August in Atlanta. Actually it’s August everywhere, but in Atlanta, August is particularly apparent. For 50 years I sweated through the longest month of the year, pining for the sweet relief of September. In Atlanta, by the end of … Continue reading

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