"No!" I said when my husband proposed that we move to San Francisco.
Both of my children had been born in Brooklyn. I loved New York, and like most New Yorkers thought that no other city could match my own.
It took a lot of persuasion on his part, some fierce resistance on mine, but finally, in 1961, we packed up and moved.
We had friends and family in San Francisco. For two weeks -- she said two months -- we stayed with friends in Richmond. When I saw the fuchsia outside her dining room window, I was entranced.
Read the rest at Huffington Post San Francisco.
By the way, Gina Misiroglu of Red Room put me in touch with the Huffington Post people, which is one of the great ways she's bringing traffic to Red Room and getting attention for Red Room's authors.