The streets of San Francisco

I understand it was cold and rainy in Michigan. Not here! It’s been sunny and nice all week here in the Bay Area. Harold and I spent Tuesday and Wednesday walking around Berkeley, where he went to seminary. He showed me all his old haunts, and we have coffee dates with several of his old friends.

Harold returned home late last night, and I was on my own today. My three-day education conference kicked off this afternoon, but I skipped out on the first session to walk around Frisco. Went to Union Station and Chinatown, took a cable car over Nob Hill and had sweet pea-asparagus pizza, which was surprisingly delicious. Came back in time to crank out a story for the Gazette and attend two conference sessions and the welcoming reception.

But even as I’m having fun in the sun, I keep thinking about my frend Charlotte, who died Tuesday morning. The outpouring of people responding to her death has been amazing — it’s surprising how many people she touched and how much she was admired as a political reporter. A person from Michigan Public Radio posted a Facebook item about how people at the state Capital were abuzz about the news of her death.

Meanwhile, my own health has been fine, save for sore feet from walking so much. When I’ve mentioned to a few people that I’m in the midst of chemotherapy, they are agog. I look normal. I act normal. I don’t seem like a cancer patient in the least. It’s sort of reassuring, to be honest.


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