California Day 10

On Monday (Memorial Day) we met my dad, sister, and the assorted gang at Cindy's diner for breakfast, then headed over to Davis Playfields Park.

Cousins Margaret, Mary, John, and Maddie

Grandpa and Margaret

A family at the park had brought its four-month-old teacup chihuahua, much to Mary's delight.

My brother-in-law, sister, and newest niece

We left the park and headed back to the hotel to pack up our room, as we would be transferring to a hotel near the San Francisco airport. Chris and I were in the bedroom packing and, when I walked into the living room to set down a bag, I found Mary beaming with happiness atop the luggage cart--with the ceiling fan spinning less than 12" from her head. This is one of the most quintessential "Mary" photos I've ever captured.

We drove to the Marin headlands to get this view of the Golden Gate Bridge, which just celebrated its 75th anniversary the day before.

Alcatraz island

We wanted to give the children a taste of the San Francisco experience so we decided that the most concentrated and convenient place for that was Pier 39.

I left the children with Chris for a mere couple of minutes and, when I returned to our meeting spot to find them, I read a text message on my phone saying that they were at the bungee jumping. Oh my. I guess this is one reason why God made daddies because I can promise you I would have answered 'no' immediately if the kids had asked me if they could try it. And who went first on this jumping contraption? Three-year-old Mary, of course.

Both kids were able to flip a few times.

I just had to laugh out on Pier 39, surrounded by the vast waters of the ocean and the fresh, blowing sea air to see that I could spent beacoup bucks to buy water and oxygen.

Waiting for a seat in the restaurant for dinner: it was cold! You could recognize the Pier's outdoor workers because they were wearing woolen caps, scarves, jackets, and long pants.

The beautiful merry-go-round

It was great fun for me to show the children the sea lions since I have such fond memories of being awed by their proximity the many times my dad brought me to Pier 39 when I was a child.

We had hoped to ride a cable car, but the line was too long for us to try it. Mama was secretly relieved, but don't tell Chris.

On our way to the hotel, we drove down Lombard Street, the (almost!) crookedest street in San Francisco