I went for a walk at lunch through one of SF's neighborhoods that is home to many Russia families. This was the first part of the city that I called home and it feels like the "old country" to me and the charm with baskets of potatoes and wooden boxes of produce that line the sidewalks outside humble markets full of chocolate, cheese, and cured meats from Russia. Refrigerators stocked with bottles of vodka and Russian being spoken by all it's hard to not be charmed and feel transported for a little while. It looks like the anchor has settled in as well and of course I'm always happy to see it and say hello. I hope to meet the sidewalk sailor someday. Oh, this tile mosaic rug/entryway is one of my favorites in the neighborhood and I use to go out of my way to see it when I lived nearby.
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