August Days.

Summer is folding its arms, sleepily closing up shop.
Taking it's time, as it should.
And as steamy days inched toward closure here, Lily and I jumped ship and visited the West Coast.
It was a perfect trip.
We lived so much in a week.
I think all we mostly said was Yes.

It felt good to... go.
Let ourselves go.

Old friends and newer lives to reconnect with.
Bubbles in the sun, spontaneous meals, rocks in a creek,
Redwood cool,
ever-dirty-back-and-forth-barefoot-feet.
Three generations of women, ever-doting-over-everything... Grandmothers, mamas and girls.
Just as we had pretended when we were small.
Real 'house' now.
So much more than we had imagined.

Loving cousins, cool Uncle, and proud Grandpa.
Dim Sum, Cable Cars and a steam train through the woods.

And no weighty fog this time.
It hovered across the bay, kept it's distance.
Sunny days, every day.
I had always wished for Alan days like this - but maybe the blustery cold on our visits was designed for his favorite warm sweaters, and rough sails.

Happy hours were spent in vineyard heat & outdoor showers. Lily ran gleefully through gardens, over gravel and bark, trailing two big girls who were full of spirit, innovation, and devotion, while I relished in moments with a dear old-soul friend and model mama.
We fed chickens, picked candy strawberries, pink apples and fresh vegetables for dinner.
Sticky first S'more for dessert.

She draped herself over rope-swings.
Floated languidly through brick oven heat.

It
was
bliss.

New York is undeniably in Lily's character but when I see her out West, I can see her great great grandmother, just like her Jiji says: Deep dark eyes. Strong stance.

My little oak.

And the way she says California always makes me smile.
Just the way my Gigi said it.
Califonia, no r.

Oh
to
be

Home.