*Lyrics from When I Fall In Love as sung by (gulp) Celine Dion. I know, I know! It’s sort of cheesy (ok, a LOT cheesy), but, well, I’m a romantic, and a sap. And I started out with a different song in mind, but something in the lyrics of this one spoke to the nature of the vows that were given (not taken). And the video is wretched, and has nothing at all to do with the loveliness that was this past weekend. But the Doris Day version seemed too sad… and not what I wanted. Oy, ok. Just, insert your own tune, but know that you cannot fall without giving yourself to the fall. You cannot receive the love, you must give it. That’s how it works. Ok, moving on. 

So, I have several blog posts written, just waiting for pictures. Which will be taken when things get a little more finished, or when I get back in the habit of photographing things as I go along. I’ve been a little rushed, and a little overwhelmed of late, what with having the house on the market, also trying to home-ify our pied-à-terre, all that bouncing back and forth, packing and unpacking, and then making a trip to lovely northern California for Jeff’s cousin’s wedding (more packing, and unpacking). We may not have shown you our wall paint selections for the flat yet, or have any news to report regarding the sale of our home, but we did manage to take pictures of our trip, and it was spectacularly lovely.

Of course, Jeff had to work. Which was a drag. He was distracted, couldn’t fully enjoy the short time he had to be with his entire extended family (whom he sees rarely – usually only at big life events as they’re all spread out across the country). But he made time. Or rather, the slow internet connection and siren call of the Pacific Ocean made him make time. Distracted time, but, well, sometimes you take what you can get.

We spent four short days in the gloriously beautiful Santa Cruz, CA, just south of San Francisco: where we got to attend several family functions, including a picture-perfect-weather wedding (yes, I cried), and a visit to the bride’s and groom’s honeymoon campsite (shared by dozens of their nearest and dearest); where we got to run by the ocean-side cliffs in the early morning light, and watch surfers, dogs and sea lions making the water their playground; where we got to have authentic Mexican food; where we got to spend time with our tiny niece, and oh, yeah, her parents, too (wink, wink); where I got to get a glimpse into my husband’s childhood, and get to know his west coast (and mid-west) relatives just a little more. It was divine. Worth every agonizing inch of airport stupidity (seriously, when are they going to realize that all of that paranoia, fear, and suspicion only makes the world a worse place to be?). Worth the distraction. Worth the week that Jeff’s in for now (that was already going to be hellish). Worth it all.

Proof. Enjoy! xoxo