I heart Pride


The lil’ monkey moons at her downstairs cousin, who is demonstrating some primo Pride pride.

Flip-side of his sign? “I was a witness when my Grandmas got married.”  Which he was. In 2004 and 2008.  He rollerbladed all the way up Market Street, complete with a rainbow flag superhero cape. Didn’t get the blades wedged in ONE streetcar track, nor ONE Muni airvent. Now that’s superheroic, and I’m very proud of him.

Consider this a wee little Pride pictorial teaser.  Today I’m solo w/ both kids, and Little Farm beckons. Later I’ll do another multi-photo, ramblingly-narrated dealie like for Baba’s Day. You’ve been warned.

Weekend bonus shot, 06.28.09


En route to Pride, Berkeley, CA.

We walked as a family to our nearest BART subway station: the girlie, the boychild, the beloved, her brother, and his two kids.  Came back with our across-the-street lesbo family chums, about six hours,  several hot city miles, 5 ounces of sun screen, a half-dozen friends (both expected and unexpected), two ice cream sandwiches, and one temper tantrum later. Would we do it again next year? Ask me in 364 days.