Breakfast on Potrero Hill

Sitting looking at the fog bank creeping over Twin Peaks from the west side of Potrero Hill, nibbling on a "all things" fresh croissant--that's whitefish and cream cheese wrapped in croissant pastry--is just a great way to spend an early morning.  Amazing how you can enjoy 7:00AM trips to the croissanterie.  Friend Ruth lives on the side of the Hill as she and neighbor refer to it, and knows all the local places for all the best of everything.   
The trip out yesterday was basically uneventful, though John left his cell-phone at home, realizing it only when we were halfway to Baltimore Washington Airport.  That required a quick sending of emails to all who might be trying to contact us that only Ben's phone would get through to us.

Southwest did us fine, though their new planes do not have reclining seats---that's fine if you don't like the passenger in front of you leaning back, but rough if you want to nap.  The trip, after a delay at Midway Chicago, meant an hour-late arrival in Oakland, and then after getting the car, about an hour to get across the San Francisco Bay Bridge.  Nothing you can do about it, but it's not a fun way to spend a rush-hour.  

But dinner made up for it.  Friend Ruth had just returned the day before from England, but put out a feast of poached salmon, foul (pron. fool--a Syrian fava bean salad), and lovely fresh bread, coupled with a chardonnay.  A local friend, Katrina, who's a pianist and world traveller, joined us for a night of full conversation before our hitting bed and falling asleep.

Today it is off to Berkeley, a place John hasn't visited since 1970 and Ben has never seen.