This is especially for those of you stranded in blizzards in places I don’t go back to, except for funerals: a walkabout in my neighborhood.  We’ve are having ungodly gorgeous weather, but I won’t rub it in, lest you smirk when we’re trying to live on a teaspoon of water a day.  A little of Bernal, more of the Mission.  If you expect a view of Fisherman’s Wharf, you’ll be disappointed, I fear.

First, an overview:

Downhill from here…

into the bowels of Frisco














though we’re named for a saint, we have a reputation for godlessness






and it may be true, but

not goddessless…






Undergarmentless, I await my good luck.

No good luck here.  Someone estocada.







On a happier note, what’s a tour without a ukelele peddler?  Making a sale?






Greet your fellow tourists.  Nice taxi.






Time’s up, tour’s over.  May all your holidays be Billie Holidays.  We’re outta here.  Is that ukelele peddler following us?







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