An Extended Stay in Northern California

The San Francisco airport is cold as I wait for my plane to board. I am reflecting on my week in Marin County and the town directly to the south of it, aka San Fran. It is a beautiful city, and incredibly pleasant when comparing it to the sauna that is West Texas in August. The fog rolls in frequently in this area, and is almost as beautiful as the sun that burns through it every afternoon to reveal a bright blue sky.

It was a whirlwind two weeks. Last week, my parents and I spent time in Carmel, one of my favorite places in the world. We drank coffee, played golf, sipped wine, and built fires on the beach. I loved having some quality time with them after a month away, and cherished our little cottage and the quiet mornings we spent together. The only unquiet times were when Dad and I played golf, which was fun and frustrating. Pretty normal for golf, actually.

Last weekend, I drove the 2 1/2 hours to San Francisco. The first few days there I had a lot of alone time, which I'm usually pretty fine with, but I definitely started to feel lonely toward the middle of the week. I went to the Muir Woods and walked between the huge redwoods, wrote in my journal while lounging by the Palace of Fine Arts, and rode on the back of a friend's Vespa through town and up to Coit Tower to take in the incredible views of the bay.

I loved getting to see some Paris friends and meeting new ones. Some incredible writers and publishing gurus at the conference inspired me. Not to mention Book Passage is where I want to retire. In the actual store. I would just live in there.

The only sad part of the trip was when Robin Williams died. He was a fixture in San Francisco, so it was odd that he died during my first trip here.

I return to Abilene today, and am excited for my birthday tomorrow (26!) and a wedding in San Antonio this weekend (hey Olivia!). The gate person is saying it's time to board, so for now, I'll grab a coffee and say goodbye to cloudy and cool California.

Hello, my pretty.

At a winery in Carmel Valley, they sold these, and I loved it.

A little Monterey action.

This will probably be the title of my memoir.

Doc's place from Steinbeck's Cannery Row.

With the madre.

Yes, I did take a dreaded selfie.

Jack Kerouac alley.

Andrew McCarthy and Tim Cahill. What inspiring writers!