Dispatches from Berkeley

Today marks eight weeks in California. When I look back on the madcap weeks before we left New York City, it all seems like a blur of stress and sleepless nights. And then you realize that the knots that tie you to one city will unravel quite easily in the end. Quite suddenly, without even trying, we were here, in a completely new place.

We had the good fortune to find a house very quickly in Berkeley and it came with a garden and a view of the Golden Gate so clear that I sometimes find it hard to leave the house. I wish I could describe to you how the air smells in Berkeley, or how the same bird comes to sing outside our window every morning and evening, or how the amount and breadth of produce at the markets feels like a religious experience each and every time. Our house is slowly coming together, and I want to share photos of the interior and the garden as it grows. 

That's not to say I don't think about New York City either, though, it hits me at the oddest moments like when I'm lost in the winding Berkeley hills, or on a Friday night when we don't have the usual dinner plans with old friends. 

This house makes it all better, but I have to educate myself in house living faster than I thought possible. We have a magnificent succulent garden in the front, but the back is completely empty so I've been furnishing it quickly and happily with herbs, aloes, and even a lemon tree and a baby fig tree gifted from a friend. I only hope the doe and her fawn who sleep in the backyard every night don't find those things too tasty. 

This West Coast/Berkeley life is shaping up to be something spectacular. I still can't believe we did it.