Certain lovely Berkeley friends have taken pity on our self-inflicted plight and have offered us succor by caring for the children, offering extra playdates, executing extra pickups from school for us and the like. And this has certainly eased our pain. But not to the point where we are tootle-y-dooing.
So, while I lose myself in contemplation of my sorry fate, I shall suffer in silence now and strive to entertain you with a few photos in an attempt to capture some memories of the neighborhood, before they become just that: memories.
|This is the house we lived in, in an area known as the Berkeley Hills|
|We could see the Bay, and both the Bay Bridge |
and the Golden Gate Bridge, over the rooftops
from the front porch of that house.
|Semifreddies is an excellent bakery within walking distance of our house. |
Family favorites: sweet batard loaves, morning buns,
and the veggie muffuletta sandwich.
The scent of neighborhood jasmine in bloom year round was just intoxicating.
|And deer loved our backyard, so between Whisper walking all over my keyboard, |
and backyard visitors who came close enough to monitor my emails
through the window, I was never alone while working from home.