In the terrible, there is still wiggle room for wonderful opportunities. Naturally it is terrible that my Father was diagnosed with bladder cancer, and going through this with him has been a challenge physically (he's moved in with me temporarily and needs a lot of daily living care), mentally (my memory is like a sieve now since I'm used to just keeping MY mental lists, and when I need to keep my father's too at unexpected times, mine leaks right out and I forget my own things) and emotionally (there are no brite-line answers with cancer these days and it's sure up and down about whether you've chosen the 'right' path for treatment).

In all this rushing about from treatment appointment to consulting appointment to pharmacist etc. there are these little holes of time and if one grabs them, you can build the most sparkling memories and joyous times. In between this and that, I've been creating unique breakfast adventures with my Dad. I've been trying to either make something different each day, or explore a new venue on the travel line between UCSF and my home in Mill Valley. This morning we grabbed an hour between appointments to enjoy breakfast at Poggio.

Poggio is a newish restaurant on the street level of the Casa Madrona Hotel. It was one of my favorite places to stay when I commuted to the bay area from Seattle before moving here. I even celebrated my 40th birthday at its previous amazing restaurant, Mikayla, which was on the top floor with a breathtaking view of Sausalito harbor. It's since been converted into a spa, and Poggio is the restaurant's replacement.

Poggio does not have a full-service breakfast, but you walk up to a charming marble topped bar and they have a selection of fresh, delectable pastries and breads, and a frittata of the day, as well as some organic steel cut oatmeal with the most succulent looking fresh berries for topping. The coffee is rich and well-flavored too, with free refills. The curly headed man serving us behind the bar said the record of refills was 20!

Dad and I chose the frittata, which rather than the usual pizza-looking egg concoction, was more like a crustless quiche. Ours was quite artful, with a filling of rigatoni and sundried tomatoes. The rigatoni made a lovely circle effect throughout the slice, and it looked as though each rigatoni had been stuffed with some sundried tomato filling. The slice was generous - I couldn't finish mine, and came with a couple thin slices of Italian peasant bread with pats of butter.

We sat in some comfortable wicker chairs, just on the line between the 'inside' and 'outside' of the restaurant on the sidewalk. We both faced the harbor and enjoyed the view of sailboats and lush purple flowering vegetation. All too quickly we had to hop up and run to the next doctor's appointment.