Eve of the Muertos

This week, the weather in San Francisco is -- in a word -- perfect. The temperatures have been hovering around a glorious 55 Fahrenheit, what I consider to be just about the most ideal temperature imaginable. The skies have been nicely overcast until late afternoon when there is an hour or so of sun -- about as much as I want in any given day -- and then it clouds over again. There is a hit of rain in th distance, but it has not come with the exception of a few sprinkles. The only thing that makes me regret that I will soon be crossing the Pyrenees towards the Mediterranean (my heart flutters just putting those two geographic wonders in a sentence with the first person singular) is that I will miss the Day of the Dead celebration a couple of blocks form my house, definitely my favorite SF celebration that puts such pointless nonsense as "Pride" and Folsom Street Fair to shame.

Fortunately, the weather there will be almost the same as it will be here.