Last night I made these stuffed peppers for dinner. They tasted so good.

It was a good weekend. Saturday I worked obsessively on the book, and we took a long walk. I always end up walking over Parnassus to Cole Valley though, I need to switch it up and walk all the way to the Castro again. That’s a challenging one, though the downhills aren’t nice on my knees.

Yesterday we drove over the bridge at midday to Berkeley to have a cookout with some friends. Our picnic site was on a lagoon at the marina, and the wind was gusting throughout, but Pablo brought a kite, so that was useful. It was fun but I felt like my hair was in my eyes much of the time.

On the way back, Brian didn’t see which toll lane we were in and we ended up trapped in the FastTrak only lanes, which for some reason are right in the center. There was no stopping or backing up, so we had no choice to go through, even though we had our cash in hand ready to pay. I guess we’ll get a ticket in the mail for that.

Anyway. Something I thought about this weekend: a character in my book is a person who voluntarily chooses a life of solitude, and finds it deeply fulfilling. I think it’s plausible, esp for this person… but I don’t know. I’ve never lived alone before.