Sunshine In My Pocket

     Last Saturday, November 25, Tom and I returned from Los Angeles after a a two-week workcation  - that is to say, a vacation during which our primary past time was caring for our grand daughters,

...and our (male) grand pup, Pinky-Poo,

    But of course it was a labor of love.

     Though, in truth, in the case of one-third of our charges, for me it amounted  to love being a matter of the will. (Once a cat person, always a cat person, I guess).

    As months go by for Tom and I without seeing our grand daughters, and they being at ages when young children begin to cross over that line that demarcates the magical world of the very young from the limitations and requisites of the reality, at the beginning of every visit I wistfully wonder if our oldest grand child has yet crossed the line.
     But thankfully, not yet this time.

    The girls in the super-hero princess outfits I brought for them.

     We arrived on November 11 and since it was a Saturday and our  flight from Columbus arrived in the afternoon, there was still time for some fun,

...including dinner at Scotty's, our favorite Hermosa Beach Restaurant,

...followed by a stroll by the Hermosa Beach Plaza, already strung with Holiday lights.

    After dinner we had some family karioke before bed.

   On Sunday morning the girls were up early to help with Pinky-poo,

...and with making breakfast,

...and to get a little coloring in,

...before Mom and Dad woke up.

     Then for Tom and me it was a trip to Ralph's,

...these provision runs always pleasurably enhanced for me by the preponderance of beautiful palm trees in the Ralph's parking lot.

    Somehow in the Ralph's parking lot I always  feel like I'm really in California.

     And then we spent the rest of the day doing the most remarkably unremarkable things,

...includ-
ing me giving sewing lessons,

...and teaching my son-in-law how to make pockets for the girls' skirts and pants,

...and snapping some backyard shots,

...and soaking up the blue skies and sunshine and breathing in the warm West Coast air that I swear smells differently than the air in Columbus, Ohio,

...and delighting in the simple wonder of it all.

To be continued...

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