Winery after winery beckoned us like the sirens of drunk driving in Paso Robles. We watched kiteboarders literally fly in San Simeon. Hearst Castle made us nostagic for times we never lived in, yet assured us of our own good taste. The cold pacific wind teased my skirt so passing motorists might catch a glimpse of my non-matching panties along the Cambria coast. San Luis Obispo made us lovesick with the scent of lavender and wary of the kids smoking pot next to us as we picnicked in the park. The sun caught us as we biked along the beach in Santa Barbara and we went to bed red and itchy, but achy in a good way. A fourth of july parade cartwheeled and sputtered down the streets of Carpinteria to welcome us to town. We've window-shopped to appease the nesting birds inside us; we've sat in the sun with glasses of wine and comfortable conversation; we've slept to the freeway's lullaby. We've spent many hours in the car, under the watchful guard of flagpole-thin palms, leaning slightly to the west as if willing the ocean to speak.
We are dangling our feet off the edge of the world.
Santa Barbara coast
Today I am so grateful and happy for: