I always wanted to live in San Francisco. My spouse’s brother died out there in 1992. One night at the Franciscan Mission on Telegraph Avenue, feeling like I was going to die of pneumonia, in 1972, was as close as I was able to get. You’re making the sap run Suzan. The sugar shack has been locked up since March.
At least I’m here to talk about it. As Martha Stewart would say, “that’s a good thing”, . . . I think.