Here in the San Francisco Bay Area, the weather is as fickle as the proverbial finger of fate. After several glorious sunny, hot days the forecast called for the return of the fog that cools San Francisco and the cities around the Bay. I left my house in the East Bay, dressed in my summer officiant attire (a sleeveless silky dress) and headed across the bridge to Golden Gate Park. There I am, sitting in freeway traffic wondering if I'll make it on time. I gaze across the Bay and see an enormous fog bank rolling in over the city. By the time I reach the site, the temperature has dropped at least twenty degrees. I'm greeted by the happy groom in his three-piece suit, while the lovely bride looks like she just emerged from a walk in freezer.
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