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Sunday started with a bang. Early in the morning, so early it was still dark, the night’s raucous storm climaxed with a hearty round of poorly timed thunder. We’d been sleeping much too soundly to notice any lightning. The night before winds gusted as furiously as 70mph, whipping 20-ton shipping containers off the Port of Oakland and rattling our windows nearly out of their frames. As the month of March has been declared a month of hibernation (like bears, you see), we stayed in. We burned a small forest in our fireplace, watched deliciously bad movies, ordered food in, hunkered down and into one another.

“Jonesey,” M whispered, nudging  me after the thunder shook us awake, “Jonesey, did you hear that?” Mmmmhmm, I moaned sleepily. “Jonesey, don’t you want to get up and see it?” She knows I have a sweet, nostalgia-covered spot for nasty thunderstorms, but I could only stir a little and hush her, pulling her closer. We fell back asleep and so did the storm, receding into wispy rain.

At 10:30AM on Sundays my alarm goes off to tell me that I need to get up and get dressed for my riding lesson at noon. It was raining lazily and my trainer texted a cancellation at the same time I sent one off to see if the ring was open. I was disappointed but also knew the only thing that ring would be fit for was mud wrestling.

By the time noon rolled around the clouds were just beginning to break and the day warmed right up. I’d seen a deal earlier in the week for a 5-piece patio dining set for under $200, and I managed to convince M that we should go out IMMEDIATELY to fetch it. I think it was a perfect combo of being sick of the rain and imagining a bourbon lemonade out in our backyard in the sun with a book that did it. Sure enough, an hour later we were sitting outside, listening to the birds chirp and fawning over the tiny baby clover patches M’s been nursing in the backyard. DREAMY.

This is our backyard. It’s a little overrun, but all I do is pick out the little seed packets for the flowers and herbs I like, so don’t look at me! You can’t see the clogs for the weeds! (I’m a sucker for a corny joke, had you noticed?) I was a big old wimp and pulled tights on under this corduroy mini. It was warm but not that warm.

Platform clogs: Dolce Vita
Miniskirt: Gap
Long T-shirt:  Zara
Blazer: Free People
Sunglasses: Vintage

Mimosas, fancy crackers with Marcona almonds and Manchego cheese, and a shiny new copy of House Beautiful.

PS. I almost forgot to mention! Up there, those cloudy pictures? Those were taken at 1AM – they’re of the megamoon!

Howdy, kittens! This day was strange. It began shrouded in fog and sadly, a local tragedy. When we woke up this morning, we could hear the non-stop fog horns on all the cargo ships out in the bay, coming and going from the Port of Oakland, under the Golden Gate Bridge. We’re pretty far from the water, so it was kind of spooky and magical. M got the alert about the power being down as she dropped me off at the office (wearing a sweater!), and headed back home to wait it out while I worked.

Fast-forward four or so hours. 30 minutes south a town and company on the cusp of their IPO and surely the family of the crash victims began to pick up the pieces. The lethal fog had lifted completely, leaving the sweet, warm sun to shine down on the city. It lapped it up. M picked me up. We lapped it up! She and I decided a day this spectacular didn’t deserve squandering, and so we packed up and headed out into the world for a reading date. Our first thought was Atlas Cafe – they have such a great little back patio. Then, I remembered Pilsner Inn’s lovely little courtyard and we decided reading over beers at 3PM was far superior to reading over iced mochas. Alas, Pilsner Inn had workers toiling away back there, with loud machines and sawdust (and carting in, I think, a Creature from the Black Lagoon arcade game!), so we bid the bartender adieu and made our way down the street.

After snapping a few pics of intriguing local scenery (cherry blossoms, painted deer (above, being air-shot by M), scooters with giant wooden boxes affixed to the rear), I remembered Cafe Flore in the Castro! It was perfect. We quickly took up a carafe of margaritas and a small table. Nouvelle Vague played quietly in the back of my mind. The sky shone blue, blue, blue and it was heavenly.

Two more days until Flourish’s one-year anniversary party! It’s going to be fabulous. We can’t wait.

PS. I know. I pegged my jeans. I couldn’t help it. I felt a gripping need to show some ankle.