It's lunch time...

Let's have sandwiches.

Josephine will provide the cheese.

I turned 29 in October...

... and I believe it was in recognition of my looming 30th birthday that my grandmother-in-law purchased a tombstone for me and had it installed in the earth.

Nothing quite like visiting your own gravesite. I hear monks do it every day. I think I understand that; I would likely be a better person if I did. My attempt at a monastic lifestyle will be to set this as my desktop photo. Crazy to think our feet will really one day be here FOREVER, just cold and shoeless. (Because PLEASE don't bury me with perfectly good shoes on my feet. Really. I'm guessing someone somewhere could use those.)

Meanwhile-- I am determined to cultivate lichen on my tombstone between now and my death. I'd like it to look like this:

Here's my first attempt:

I think it would be so pretty growing down in those grooves.

I will keep you posted on the success of life at my place of death.

Almost two months ago...

Agh! I've been meaning to post this forever! These totally don't fit her anymore because she's been growing like nutgrass, but we did get great use out of them! These were super-snuggly pjs, Vicki! Thank you!

Why didn't she just say so?

Or maybe that's what all the screaming was about when she was supposed to be napping this afternoon.

Anyway, Josephine (and various puddles of drool around the house) wish to let us know she did FINALLY cut that fourth tooth, which we could see but not feel for many days now. (To date we have achieved two top and two bottom, front and center, textbook-style. Though, doesn't it seem like the molars would have been more helpful first? What's the point in being able to slice a bite if you can't chew it?)

PS: I heard her gritting her front teeth today, a LOT. It's AWFUL. Like fingernails on a chalkboard. Is this normal????

California, cont. cont.

Day Sixorsevenish

A winery. Josephine's first! By this point, we all had colds (Sean had caught one from the airport or rental car, and after a few days, Josephine and I succumbed). Unfortunately, the corresponding part of the vacation was when we'd planned day trips to Napa, Sonoma, and other scattered vineyards. We did still visit a couple wineries, but with a fussy infant and zapped taste buds, it didn't rank high on our priorities.


another winery...

Sean had heard some good things about Lake County, so we drove around there some. This is a view from a highway that was not designated as scenic on our map. Yeah, me neither, Map Makers-- I don't find this scenic at all.


We also went back out to the coast to drive further south on Hwy 1 (like I was saying, it's important to see as much as possible while still possible). It was foggy that day along the coast. So while the majority of our driving on that vacation was GORGEOUS weather, we did get a taste of the mystical coastline fog.

Of course, fog along a crashing seashore made for the perfect excuse to break out her little sweater and take some pictures that we wouldn't have the weather for in Austin until February, if ever. (I think I've invested a total of $11 in thrifted winter wear for the child-- sweaters, a rain coat and one-piece fleece snow-suit thingy-- and really, I feel overly prepared).

Anyway, we were determined to get a couple of wintry portraits, as you are about to see. Knowing her appetite for sediment, I watched her closely in the sand. Not much made it into her mouth, but that's mostly because she was preoccupied with pouring it on her jeans. Which leads to...

A Six Month Old's Instructions on How To Be Mischievous

Step 1) Get in touch with your inner imp.

Step 2) Grab sand. As much and as many times as you can.

Step 3) Deftly pour onto pants while distracting adults with engaging conversation.

Step 4) Smile a little bit guiltily because you realize the adults have a camera, and therefore, probably proof of your antics...

Moving on...

As you all know, with Sean, most things on his agenda are strongly influenced by the stomach lobby. Since we were back on the coast that afternoon, we had a few requisite seafood stops. For the first one, the fog dissipated and was replaced by flies hovering around a cluster of dirty picnic tables. Naturally, this was the perfect place to eat raw things, according to Sean. Josephine wasn't so sure, and I'm afraid my expression was even lower on the glee spectrum.

That said, I did my adventuresome duty and tasted two varieties of shelled-things-that-required-appendage-threatening-prying. My conclusion: it would have been faster and far tastier if I'd handed him a large straw and let him drink some sandy sludge right from the ocean. Of course, he seemed thrilled with the experience. But that is Sean.

We also made a seafood stop at a restaurant where Josephine pulled yet another one of her stunts and made the meal an infant-juggling struggle. I hate trying to eat when small hands are lunging for your fork, face, drink, food, napkin, earrings, plate, hair, mouth, purse, chair, floor, ceiling, ocean, e, v, e, r, y, t, h, i, n, g.

Her life was on the line afterwards, the minute we got her out of the restaurant and away from the general public. Not that she was aware of it. Silly, oblivious infant.

Day Eight

We also hit the Petrified Forest. I like the contrast here... a young thing sitting on an old thing:

Oh look! Here it is again-- a young thing sitting on an old thing!!! (Less contrast though... these two look oddly similar.)

Day Nine

And here's the glimpse we got of San Francisco on our way back to Oakland. We drove most of the way and then hiked the last part up Mt. Tamalpais. Awesome view.

The sun was setting as we headed back down:

This was one of the parts of the trip where the treacherously curvy roads had Josephine fearing for her life and Sean and I bewildered by the speeds locals were driving. I wish I'd gotten a better picture of how Josephine was clinging to her car seat "roll bar," as Sean calls it. Her grip's pretty loose in this one because she was yet again enthralled with the camera and temporarily forgot the direness of her situation. But you get the idea. It was funny. You just kinda had to be there.

OH-- did you just hear that???? THAT, folks, is the sound of sneakers touching down on the tartan track! The hurdle is now behind us!

In short, California was lovely, and we loved it (... yes, even more than sleep and sanity)!