Wow, it was bright this morning, kind of headachey bright. I had dressed all wrong, turtleneck, big coat, and everyone was out in little sweaters. I guess it is spring… spring in California at least, that starts in February!

Last night I walked home via the Chinatown gate up to the french Notre Dame church, up to Nob HIll, then down Taylor and through Russian Hill. I found the plaque to the poet who was the “first white woman over the pass” in the Sierras. Kind of an odd distinction, as well as being a poet laureate for the US (the first?). It’s at the top of this hill, maybe Broadway and Taylor. Really, really steep hill. I think this is the hill where the surveyor didnt’ take into account the elevation and they had to put a ladder up until they could at least incline it.

The plum trees are blossoming like crazy, it’s an intense sweet smell that hits you when you least expect it. Mock oranges are also in full flower, and I love that smell, it is a little more sneaky and not so overpoweringly sweet, but more perfumey. They say that tube-rose smell has a bit of offal in it. Weird, huh.

Chinatown is gearing up for New Years. I noticed some banners flying and wondered how long they were up there, they seemed kind of hard to reach and replace. Year of the Rooster!