The other weekend it was beautiful and sunny and warm--almost hot. Mabel and I went for a walk on Sunday afternoon and ended up at Yerba Buena Gardens. There we sat on a blanket (this quilt was actually mine when I was a baby--made by my amazingly talented father out of worn-out clothes in the ubiquitous denim and corduroy of the 70s) and I drank iced coffee and Mabel ate her sunhat and charmed passersby with the endearing spectacle of her tiny bare arms.
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