Summer of Love '07

As I noted yesterday, my odd preoccupation with colors has rubbed off on my youngest daughter, who's come up with very interesting interpretations. Meanwhile, today is a special day, because my oldest daughter has arrived to begin the final planning for her wedding, which will be just under three weeks from now.



It's hot tonight in San Francisco, the sky is clear and the stars are bright. It is sweet having my first-born with me; tonight we improvised a dinner without a name -- onions, broccoli stems, garbanzos, hot sausage, sweet corn, a ton of spices, pasta and shredded cheese. It tasted pretty good, especially when we dipped olive bread into it.



My little kids are not here; they've flown east to stay with their grandparents for two weeks, and I miss them -- transitions are always hell for me. Before she left, Julia insisted on making a welcome sign for Laila -- it is taped to our front door now, and is the first thing Laila noticed when she arrived.



Julia wanted to experiment with green dyes and sand dollars, in the hope this helps us create the centerpieces for Laila's wedding party. She came up with a pretty cool outcome.



Then she came up with an even cooler idea -- colored ice cubes. Drop them in a clear drink, say bubbly water or vodka, and they will create a light show worthy of the acid-fueled trips so familiar to those who were tripping, circa 1969.








The boys are growing their hair long this summer. Reminds me of the original Summer of Love. I wasn't here, in the Haight, though I did move into that neighborhood six years later. But I was in Boston, New York, and Washington, where smaller, but no less intense gatherings were happening/
The romanticism of that era revisits us when we look into the innocent young faces of boys like mine, with their freckles and red hair, one straight, one curly, but both full of the promise of what love is truly about.
The romanticism of that era revisits us when we look into the innocent young faces of boys like mine, with their freckles and red hair, one straight, one curly, but both full of the promise of what love is truly about.




The large, chaotic, extended Weir clan is gathering this summer. We will have parties, and we will celebrate a marriage between one of us and special partner, of French origin. Our multicultural family will embrace this wonderful event with ~150 friends and relatives, including our youngest member, little James, who now has (count them!) two teeth!

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