My whole immediate family came down Saturday, and since the afternoon's activities were my choice, I decided we should explore there first.
My sisters and me.
We took in the paintings at the Timken Museum of Art, the amazingly admissionless gallery featuring a Rembrandt, a Rubens, a collection of Russian ikons, and this composition depicting Christ healing the blind, among so much more.
A lot of our pictures are staged, but we get so few opportunities to stand stiffly in line together anymore, that we had to take advantage of this.
Where else in the world is February so gorgeous? I remember many snowy birthdays back in Cleveland spent fantasizing about West Coast celebrations. In fourth grade I bought a copy of Fodor's San Diego for a report and pored over it constantly, practically memorizing the passages on Balboa and the beaches. I played the Beach Boys at a sleepover one year, but somehow it wasn't quite the same.
And would you know it, I can unequivocally say that it is as good or better than I expected it to be.
For dinner, we headed downtown to Filippi's for unparalleled pizza, antipasto salad, and ravioli. The place is infamous for its neverending line out the door, but it moves fairly quickly, and while you wait you can look at all the imported Italian specialties for sale in front: salames, cheeses, pizzelles and tiramisu, plum-flavored sesame seeds . . .
I haven't celebrated with both my grandmas for years, and never in California. Such a special treat!
My sisters baked me a lovely cake.
My parents found me the perfect present: a bike with gears! It is precisely what I envisioned, and worlds apart from the beach cruiser I've been pumping up and down Loma's hills.
Afterwards we got tea and coffee at a cafe near Shelter Island and spent some time in caffeinated conversation. I truly enjoyed myself, and I think everyone else did, too. And I really enjoyed riding my new bike to church this morning.
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