Neighborhood Doorways, San Francisco

Morning walks daily while in the "neighborhood" in San Francisco led me to enchanting entrances to homes on the hill north of the place where I stayed in Noe Valley. I want to share some of the lovely works of art with you. Hope you enjoy.


What kind of stories are hidden behind the green and glass and birck and mortar in this alive and fasinating dwelling?



























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I wonder who you are and how you feel when you enter this enchanting doorway.

The story behind the two side-side houses (according to a man I met while taking this photograph) is that the pink house slide down the hill and the woman who purhased it had the blue-gray house moved from atop the hill to sit beside the pink house. She built a breezeway to connect the two homes so she lived in the blue-gray and her daughter lived in the pink.


Maybe the hill looks easy enough to walk up but let me tell you it will take your breath away; at least I had to stop at the top. Whoops, there wasn't a top to the hill. Whenever I thought I had reached the top I saw there was another mountain to climb.



Streets, stones, bricks, plants, flowers and arcitec is all a work of art.










How'd you like to have this kind of garden?_________________________________________________







Recently, I accompanied a writer-poet friend to San Francisco to help he with his traveling--we changed plans in Dallas and Las Vegas and my friend required a wheel-chair (ever change planes in Dallas? If not, be prepared for miles and miles via walking paths, moving sidewalks, trams)--anyway, I traveled with him and then helped him get settled into an apartment where his doctor daughter also lives. But prior to the apartment we stayed in a flat (owner called it a bed & breakfast; but I don't think so, though it was quite nice) for the first week. That's when I took 45-to-an-hour fast walks over the hill to the north and the buisness area to the south in this "neighborhood" of Noe Valley. It was rewarding, interesting and lovely. I've put photos I took on these ventures in to several different folders that I am sharing with you. I found the doorways most interesting and lovely.
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Every entrance amazed me.



Just couldn't get enough of the various doorways and coming upon Victorian mixed with the array of stylings in the residential parts of Noe Valley.

Visting the Golden Gate

Visting the Golden Gate Park, Golden Gate Bridge, Hawk Hill & Battery No. 129
in San Francisco, California, June 2011
According to San Francisco information, the Golden Gate area climate is temperate marine and generally mild year-round. Daytime temperatures range from 40 degrees in the winter to 75 degrees in the summer. Morning and evening fog rolls in during the summer and winter months, and can burn off by midday.
At Hawk Hill, looking down onto the bridge, the weather was quite cool, but after walking through the battery to the other side, the breeze was much warmer.















Hawk Hill is a 920-foot (280 m) peak in the Marin Headlands, just north of the Golden Gate Bridge and across the Golden Gate strait from San Francisco, California. The hill is within the Golden Gate National Recreation Area.

I took the photos of the Golden Gate Bridge, as well as the rock formations (much of which was developed from fossil) and other breathtaking ing views from here.



The battery was to the left of the awesome rock.

A Cruise to Nowhere

This is how it was when Evelyn and I went on a Cruise To Nowhere. And you see, this was in 1989...

I'm enchanted by the sea. Stands to reason that when my reporter friend said, "Let's take a cruise to No Where," I jumped at the idea.

The adventure would be something to write about, no doubt. After all, we both needed story ideas. I was the crime beat and city government reporter and Evelyn covered schools for the Daily Sun-Journal in Brooksville, Florida.

So when she pulled up in my driveway in her little gray sports car and tooted the horn at 6 sharp on Saturday morning, I picked up my duffel bag, camera, purse and joined her for the three-hour drive from the West Coast to Port Canaveral.

We yacked about the fun we'd have lying on the sundeck, listening to island music, taking an occasional dip in the pool and drinking Bahamas Mamas. And men. We'd surely meet a couple nice guys to dine and wine with.

We were booked on a 10 a.m. cruise, so we figured we would get to the ship by 9:30--plenty of time to settle in before departing.

This we did. We had plenty time to board. It's a good thing we did have time to spare, because with the two of us reading cruise material rather than watching our steps, we had to backtrack a couple of times to get in the proper corridor leading aboard.

On the ship, we went straight to the sun deck, found loungers and plopped down. Here, we decided, we would spend the most of the next six hours.

We chatted with some people sunning next to us. They were here on vacation from Louisiana. They had their kids with them. It seemed children traveled free.

Yes. Free.

It seemed everybody had kids.

All the MEN had kids.


I heard someone say that breakfast was being served. So we left our duffle bags on the loungers and went to eat. I was intrigued by the watermelon display carved like a Florida 'gator.

With no air-conditioner working in the dinning room, Evelyn and I were both able to stick to our diets.

When the ship started to move, we were back on our loungers and sunning on the deck.

The sun was good and hot by the time water from the ocean was finally flooded into the pool.

Time for a dip, we both said looking at each other.

We stood at the pool edge, just about to take the plunge when a lady staffer called out.

"Everybody out of the water. Everybody out except the kids who want to play tag."

Everybody's kids jumped into the small swimming pool. Everybody's kids jumped in. Remember -- kids traveled free. Kids were everywhere.

I didn't really want to swim anyway. And the water splashed on me when the kids jumped in cooled me off. And, after all, who could ask for more than a salt-water shower?

Back to the loungers. Back to the sun. I broke out in a sweat. I sat up and looked at my arms. Among the crystal balls of water running off my stinging skin were patches of black stuff.

"I'd like to know what all this black crap is that's on me," I said to Evelyn.
She opened her eyes and took a peek. "It's soot," she said, glancing at a smokestack jutting up from the deck above us.

"We're breathing all that," she said with a straight face then....closed her eyes.

This called for a Bahama Mama. I ordered one from the waiter. He brought it. I took a tiny fan out and gave it to a kid that had been leaning against my lounger staring at me. I took a sip of the drink, then glanced down at it. A slightly yellow-tinted substance was spiraling up from the ice. So much for the Bahama Mama.

After a while we decided to take our chances in the casino. We played
quarters. All I can say is that it was a good thing we didn't have to buy
lunch.

On the way to dinner, I stopped to take pictures of an older couple on
a dance floor doing the tango, or something close. The man was really doing his stuff. One-two-three, hip out. One-two-three, hip out.

In the dining room, I studied over the same watermelon alligator that I
had seen at breakfast. The alligator seemed to have aged years during the past few hours, with his skin much darker red and slightly wrinkled.

Once we had picked up our food from the buffet, we were seated at
the same table with the couple I had photographed dancing. (The two I
thought I had photographed dancing. I finally noticed I didn't have film in
my camera.)

They were funny. The woman ordered a "Stinger."

The French waiter couldn't understand her. He tried to repeat her
order, but failed. The waiter was a man, I think.

"I said I want a stinger, not a stinker," she said loudly, then laughed,
sounding as if she were from the cast of "Hee-Haw."

Needless to say, the chocolate mousse I had just dipped my spoon into didn't get eaten.

We headed back to the sundeck. Surely by now island music would be playing. We later decided the musicians had missed the boat. Or perhaps they knew about the broken airconditioner. Or the soot. Or maybe the children. Traveling free.

And then there was the floor show. When I say floor show, that is exactly what I mean. The room was full of people and I, among many, ended up sitting on the floor.

The lady singer fanned herself with the tail of the long, satin gown she
wore. "I came to Florida so I'd be warm. Now I'm trying to work my way back to Broadway."

But I don't think her fanning cooled her much. She kept wiping her neck with the back of her hand then showing us how the water would drip off her fingers. And I don't think it generated enough gust to blow her north. But one thing for sure, she exited the stage much faster than she had entered.

At almost 4 p.m., Evelyn and I decided we would go to the front of the boat and beat the crowd off. That was not a wise decision.

We stood in a line in a tight hallway near the front where nothing moved except the hot breaths of moaning cruisers. Women and men and their kids.

I nudged Evelyn. "Hey, it's hotter in here than I thought". In fact, the heat rays on my burning arm were sending smoke signals to my shoulder.

"I can't believe it is so hot.

"Ouch!"

Someone had put a burning cigarette in the metal container I was
leaning against.

Another 20 minutes and we were off the ship. The cruise to No Where was over.

And no where is exactly where I'd wished I'd gone.

I'll tell you about the gambling boat, which featured singer Bertie Higgins, we took out of Medira Beach another time. Pease stay tuned.

A pair of Pine Warblers are looking for a home to hatch chicks.

Mister Warbler: “This place is awfully busy. Squirrels, Jays, Crows… I don’t see any friends.”

Missy Warbler: “It’s a good place. Busy yes. But our gray and yellow colorings blend in with this dead oak tree that’s hanging with Spanish Moss.”

Mister Warbler: “There’s water; but we get ours from a distance away. There’s seed, but I’ll hunt for bugs.

”Missy Warbler: “The cabin is so lovely.”

Mister Warbler: “Since you like it so much, Missy, we’ll move in.”

Three weeks later with water spraying over the evergreens and bushes and various birds dancing under the sprinkler, Mister Warbler stands on his cabin perch and watches. Then,

Mister Warbler: “Missy, I think we’ve moved in to a tropical amusement park.”

(Below is an essay about the Pine Warblers nesting in the dead oak tree by my porch in Florida)

Pine Warbler nesting near my porch in Florida

April 16, 2011
Florida Warblers are moving into the little log cabin in the dead tree by my porch. Awesome watching them at work. The long stream falling from the door opening is made up of pine needles, Spanish moss, and my hair. I put hair from my brush on a tree limb for the Titmice, but it seems the Warbler likes it too.

One birds watches while the other puts nesting materials in the house. A squirrel got nosy and tried to look in and the Warblers took turns diving at him. The squirrel, I call Peanut, was certainly crying for help.

Today, April 30, I am watching the Pine Warbler's as they spend more and more time in the bird house. I've found these birds very private, thus keeping a low-profile. I finally was able to snap a couple shots--but at a far distance, So they might not be as good as I'd hope. But I'll keep trying.

I think the female stays in the house more now; and I wonder if she is sitting on eggs.



I've really learned to respect the Pine Warbler. When they started moving in, it seemed right out-of-the-blue. I had not seen them at the bird feeder, nor the bird bath. They came, scoped out the bird house, built a nest there. I still haven't seen them at the bird bath nor feeder.

I understand that sometimes these birds will go to a feeder, but usually they like to eat bugs and grapes. Well, they are in the right place here. There are oodles of wild grape vines over this property. I just wonder, since they don't go to the bird bath, where do they get water. I did see one of the birds out back a few days ago when I had a sprinker on watering my garden.

I read also that Pine Warbles rarely use nesting boxes, like the little log cabin hanging in my dead tree. I read they like to build nest among Spanish Moss. Well, this they are certainly doing here. The dead tree where the cabin is located is covered with Spanish Moss. When one of the Warblers come out and sit in the dead tree moss-covered limbs, it is nearly all camouflaged.

Baby birdies are on my mind now, and in my heart... Yey!

Today, Sunday I've found the male Warbler is getting braver--or at least he is becoming more visible. Still, he hasn't utilized the bird bath nor the feeder. However, he sat for a few moments on a branch close to the feeder and looked at it before flying away. Maybe he is planning his trip to it.

Two big black crows worry me. They have returned time and time again to the dead tree where the Wablers' nest hangs. I don't know if they are out to rob the nest and its eggs, or if they are considering visiting the bird bath. It has been quite dry here in Florida this spring.

Today, May 2, The male Wabler hid himself in a the close-by evergreen and looked at the bird bath with a water sprinkler in it spraying clean water. He didn't go there.

The Warbler was out of sight when a cute little innocent squirrel came scurrying down the tree. He was, I guess, too close the the Wabler's log cabin. Out of nowhere, it seems, the Warbler began to dive at the squirrel, causing cries of help from my little fury friend. A couple Cardinals happened to be sitting on branches of the dead tree. They got all excited with the commotion and started screeching and flying...

So now I can't stop watching the birds. I know I should be working on my new novel and I will, I will. Guess I better do it in the middle of the night. I'm too tuned into the birds! I love them.

May 13,
Yesterday evening I turned the water sprinkler on so it sprayed the evergreen tree and other vegetation surrounding the birdbath. The trees were singing with birds of various breeds spreading they feathers in the mist and dances on sparkling limbs everywhere. There were Tufted Titmice, Carolina Chickadees, American Chickadees, American Goldfinch, a Dowdy Woodpecker, another larger red headed Woodpecker, Blue Jays, male and female Cardinals, Doves…

Mister Warbler stood on the bird house perch.

He tweeted something like: “Missy, I think we moved into an amusement park!” But he didn’t join the other birds in play. Just stayed up there and watched and studied.

I just walked into my bedroom and saw one of the Pine Warblers, female I’m quite sure, drinking from the birdbath. First time I’ve seen either of the Warblers taking advantage of the amenities offered in my own personal bird sanctuary.

The baby birds were hatched a few days ago. Don’t know the exact day. Must have been where I saw more activities going on at the bird house. Both were busy traveling in and out. Then I walked by and heard chirping, so that tells me there are chicks; it’s so exciting.

I tried to take a picture of the babies when I thought the parents were, perhaps, out to lunch. But, all I could snap was an adult wing feather.

I’ve worried some about the huge black crow that comes to the dead tree calling. Hope he doesn’t take too much offence when I shoo him off.

I’ve seen Carolina Chickadees take a wrong turn and go inside the bird house, but they come out nearly instantly. On a moss covered limb, Daddy Warbler went after a Blue Jay. They didn’t fight, but the Jay didn’t bother the bird’s cabin, either. I've also watched the Warblers run of female Cardinals.

And nowadays, the squirrels are not allowed even on the tree trunk and they get runoff by the Warblers. Wouldn’t have believe it had I not seen it with my own eyes.

May 14
Coffee on the porch with the birds and squirrels is an awesome thing. First thing I saw brought a laugh. Two squirrels were playing at the bottom of the dead tree; one chased the other onto the trunk and daddy Pine Warbler just happened to be watching from somewhere out-of-sight. Withing seconds he was diving into both squirrels. They couldn't scramble fast enough!

I've been trying to slip up to snap photographs when I think mommy and daddy are out. I've managed to get a couple but wouldn't have been surprised if I had not gotten hammered by these brave birds.

I plan to drive to Georgia tomorrow. I know when I return the young birds will have flown-the-coop. But I hope the Warblers will remember their stay here as plesent; and I hope so much they will return next spring. I really come to respect this handsome bird.

Willie Nelson, Feb. 16, 2011

Look who's holding my book of love poems... SAYING I LOVE YOU, published by Asylett Press, 2010.

Grand Cayman

Visiting Grand Cayman Island from Margaritaville to Hell and back again


Camille, Paul, Patsy and Phil.... Fun fun fun





We met lots of interesting people at Margaritaville and on the tour bus

You know, the security in Grand Cayman takes the job seriously... I wouldn't want to face-off with the guard nor the Doberman !

Wanita was a HOOT during our tour of Grand Cayman Island











Camille on the porch at the Rum Factory... Yes. Rum! Lots of samples indeed.

I don't think I told anybody to go to Hell... Please forgive me if I did. Sorry.... But it was an interesting place.

The black-rocklooking stuff is the actual Hell...so they say.

I'm wondering if I should post the dancing girls from Margaritaville and yes, also the dancing boys... Hello... Anybody out there?

As our bus drive guide told us, "Banking is the biggest trade in Grand Cayman". And I believe it by the looks of seaside home, spas, and rich hotels.