Technically, the day after was split between Inverness and Point Reyes. We spent the morning hanging out at the Inverness house, watching the fog and the birds and eating leftover bread and cheese. Talking. Walking. More talking. That kind of stuff.
Our family of four had planned to meet our dear friends, the Mansfields, for Father’s Day dinner in Tomales Bay, so we spent the afternoon on Limatour Beach.
The Mansfields were our next door neighbors for years…I refer to them as pajama neighbors…you know, friends that you can walk over to their house in pajamas. Steve and Dick have spent serious hours on their bikes together (including riding across Iowa), while Gail and I held down the front lawn with Margarita glasses. We celebrated, we camped, we traveled, we generally hung out all the time. When they started to murmur about moving to a bigger home across town I couldn’t even talk about it. They moved maybe eight years ago and I still can’t talk about it. They’re only ten minutes away, but it requires getting dressed.
Of course, because we think alike, we all chose the same beach. We had plenty of time a chance to catch up with stories about Peru, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Chico, Chicago, Corvallis…and those are just the kids.
On the drive to dinner, I mentioned that with the Mansfields I feel like we are the most ourselves. We don’t have to shift, alter, or edit anything. My girls agreed, though they did mention that self-editing isn’t always a bad thing for moms (that would be their mom, as in me). Come to find out, the Mansfields had the same discussion in their car. I presume without the self-editing recommendation.
Dinner, with our fabulous families. Kate, Richard, Margot and Alex. Weren’t they all just little kids a few weeks ago?
That was last weekend. Just in time for this weekend. See you on the flip side.