One of the changes my trainer has mandated is to eat a bigger breakfast, and on Saturdays there is time to cook it at home before going out into the world to start the productive part of the day. Many bloggers take enticing photos of sophisticated meals arranged on beautiful plates, but I do not have an aptitude for that kind of photography. Still, I am capable of presenting visual evidence that I did cook and then cleaned up after myself.
The entrance to Spencer Alley is hidden between two of the buildings at the far end of this row facing onto 16th Street with the morning sun bouncing off their windows as I set off on a postprandial walk.
Mosaic pavement on the front stoop of an otherwise unremarkable San Francisco apartment house on 17th Street & Church. I have passed this doorway a thousand times and never noticed any decorative flooring, but the building is next door to the alternative laundromat that I was using this morning (Star Wash looked overcrowded, so I decided to walk an extra block to an emptier place) and that meant I was loitering around on the sidewalk outside while the machines ran my clothes through their cycles and consequently I noticed this urban amenity for the first time, even though it is a venerable presence on extremely familiar terrain.