We visited the Legion of Honor this weekend with our museum buddy Michelle. It’s one of the most lovely museums in San Francisco, stunning views of the Golden Gate bridge, but it’s way out on the edge of town. I’ve only been maybe twice in 15 years. Some of my favorite pieces:
Love a good side-eye statue.
They had a Pierre Bonnard exhibition going on, and I found The Bath, one of my favorite paintings. I had a postcard of this pinned to the wall of my room through college.
Ozzy wants to walk very much, but is concerned about falling. So he yells to be set down, stands for a minute, then crawls back to you and yells until you pick him up again. We had a good time.
It is impressively, and justifiably, out of my price range. But! The per-wearing cost would bring it well into budget. I could drape myself over a fainting couch every morning and eat breakfast bonbons in my own personal joy cloud.
I’m forty years old this morning, typing this while the sun comes up. When they learn I’m turning forty, people mostly ask if I’m okay with it. They have concerned faces because they can see the bony fingers of decrepitude encircling my neck.
Hank dressed himself today. If I know my kid, he chose the most available item of clothing from each drawer — a tank top and shorts, soccer socks, skater sneakers, and a blazer when I told him he needed a jacket.
So off we go to the beach for some pickup soccer, then a few Ollies at the skate park, topped off with dessert at the yacht club. Lifestyle goals.