Sea and Sky

Glorious is really the only way to describe the southern California sky in January. And glorious, too, the sparkling water. I took Henry and Oliver down to Newport Beach where we met Erika, Phil and little Izzy of The flight of our Hummingbird and went out in a boat to do some whale-watching. We didn't see any whales, but we did see an incredible pod of dolphins, hundreds and hundreds of them, leaping and arcing in and out of the ocean, their black bodies slick as they sliced through the water. The boys ran up and down; they ate nasty nachos and exclaimed over the dolphins, the seals and sea lions; the boys tickled Izzy's feet, and we all marveled at her constant happiness. We turned our faces up to the sun and let our shoulders drop, relaxed.

Back on land, we ate a delicious lunch together, bought entirely too much candy in a local candy shop, hugged each other good-bye with promises to get together soon and then headed back home.

This is an IV bag filled with blood-like sugar something or other. Oliver thought he'd put it on Sophie's IV pole when she gets her next IVIG infusion. I was glad Erika heard him, because now she can vouch for how seamlessly my children move from the crazy to the casual.

The sun was setting on the coast -- the colors and changes so remarkable that it was almost distracting. We turned up the music and sang with Grace Slick, Allison Krauss and Carly Simon -- all three of us at ear-splitting decibels in the car. I can't remember when I've felt more happy.