Himself: Two estate sales, helped make salad, ate with a fine bunch of like minded folks, worked, and finally ate dinner late and lite.
Herself:Ditto. Don’t cha like those. While he worked, I napped and read.
Gratitude: I love bench seats.
The thought struck me as I was writing yesterday’s blog that I could take her with me.
It started out as a very grey day. I’d had hopes for sun, but there wasn’t any. Out of OB we went across the Mission Bay fill with Mission Hills in the distance and the 8 and 5 interchange a concrete necklace on the land.
We found two yard sales on our way to an estate sale that wasn’t….it may be your estate, but you are not dead yet.
Back down the hill, across the river, and into OB we cruised. Here’s the OB fire station number 15, and here’s Santa Monica Street with the OB Elementary school to the left, the Recreation Center to the right, and the ocean straight ahead.
Turning left, we headed up the Point into a neighborhood of post war housing where many carpenters, plumbers, Navy employees, and housewives once lived. I saw my first OB homeless sticker. Nope, I don’t agree, but then again the latest batch of homeless kids get violent.
The estate sale house looked charming from the front but obviously the owners had faded away. Here’s G heading for the front door, and here’s the tile on the doorstep.
Living room, kitchen, and office.
Garage with scooter….Oh, that would be such a nice thing to have at Comic Con.
G climbing back into the house to pay for the ironing board….a really sturdy 1950’s piece without rust or Grumpy tire tracks. The wheels still worked too.
Making the salad and off we go…..where?