San Francisco & Napa

So, a baby walks into a bar (or in our case, a winery) and the bartender (or in our case, the person who pours a very small amount of wine for a tasting) says, "I'm going to need to see her ID." Cue laugh track, forced smiles and too-loud chuckles.  But before we get to that point of the story, let's back up and talk about the couple of days that we (hubby, baby and yours truly) enjoyed in San Francisco.

Cheers!

I'm not sure how it's possible that we've traveled all around the world, to more than 15 countries, yet never had made it to California, but we had done just that.  To fix our predicament, we set our sights on northern California and arrived mid-May. A couple of days in San Francisco gave us time to explore the hills of Chinatown, the sea lions at Pier 39 and the shops of Union Square. 

The two hour time difference proved too much for baby girl to handle.  We were in our room each night by 5 p.m. PST (7 p.m. CST).  Thank goodness for the suite upgrade that the kind desk manager gave us.  We must have looked desperate.  Or maybe AnnaB was just that adorable.  Her early bedtime allowed us each to run along the Embarcadaro, San Fran's version of a boardwalk.  My run took me under the Bay Bridge all the way to the Giants' baseball park.  Later, we shared a delicious pizza while sitting cross-legged on the bed watching a Brady Bunch marathon.  Wild and crazy, I know.

Windy morning at Pier 39 in San Francisco

Sea lions at Pier 39

Carousel ride in San Fran

On our drive to Napa, we detoured twice.  Once to take in the stunning panoramic of the Bay Area at Vista Point.  With just a turn of the head, you can see Alcatraz, downtown San Fran and the Golden Gate Bridge.  We were lucky to be there on a uncharacteristically fog-free morning and the view was everything it promised to be.  Next, we stopped at Muir Woods to crane our necks at the towering redwood trees.  I wish I could have bottled up the incredible smell of evergreen, crisp morning air and pure nature.  AnnaB did not respect the "serenity and quiet" signs, so we hustled out as to not ruin the experience for others. 

View of the Golden Gate Bridge from Vista Point

Panoramic of baby girl in her stroller in the Muir Woods

As the big tourist season doesn't fire up until the end of May, Napa was a bit of a ghost town.  Fine by us.  On our first afternoon, we were the only guests at the Rutherford Ranch Vineyards.  Humbly, we fessed up to knowing very little about wine.  We were given a brief lesson on proper wine tasting etiquette.  Several sips later, we were feeling warm and fuzzy and beginning to understand the difference between a Sauvignon Blanc and a Pinot Gris.  Who knew that it would be an educational adventure?

Our first wine tasting!

 We ran each morning in the chilly Napa air, enjoying the sight of hot air balloons above the vineyards.  Postcard perfect.  A vacation is not complete without a little bicycle riding, and this time it was on adorable country roads from vineyard to vineyard.  Baby girl loved her sweet ride in the trailer behind her daddy's bike.  Lunch was delivered to us in a picnic basket and those sandwiches were thoroughly devoured as we lounged about on lush fescue.  I could get use to Napa life. 

Baby girl in her trailer

Daddy and his passenger

Love me some bike riding!

A little snack with daddy during a wine tasting

Beautiful vineyards!

Family pic - all smiles!

Relaxing and lunching in Napa

We had a wonderful time, but sometimes the best part of a vacation is getting back to your own bed.  Nothing feels better than a hot shower and your own pillow after 12 hours of traveling with a toddler.  Loved us some California and now that we're home, we can't wait for our next get-a-way.

Being a Grown Up

As kids, we're in such a rush to grow up.  To be an adult and do cool adult things sounds so fantastic, so hip.  But no one tells you (or maybe they did, and I wasn't listening) that being a grown up sucks.  There's no one else to defer major decisions to.  You can't call up your mom and say, "please make this major life decision for me."  Well, maybe some people can, but that's not how I was raised.  I am 30+ years old.  It's time to put on the big girl panties and make the life-altering decisions. 

And so it was over Easter weekend that the hubby and I had to decide what to do with our 10-year-old lab mix, Pete.  Without going into detail, dire circumstances made us come face to face with one of my worst nightmares. 

In August of 2003, Pete was a mangy-haired stray that wondered up to the Tulsa Zoo's entrance (my former employer).  He weighed only 70 lbs on what was supposed to be a 100 lb frame.  He was malnourished, dehydrated and rotten with ticks and fleas.  It made perfect sense to me to take him home.  Over the course of a month, he came back to life and thrived for the next 9 years.  He was great with our two girl dogs, but horrible with any other dogs, especially if he was on his leash.  It must have been the "mix" part of him (we always guessed Great Pyrenees) that made him uber-aggressive.  He had a bark that would rattle the glass and a vertical jump that nearly knocked down a stockade fence.  Most of the time, he was big marshmallow, lying on his bed, with his head hanging off onto the floor.  I loved that dog to bits and pieces.  The massive amounts of shedding and drooling and Cujo antics were not ideal, but he was my dog.  I woke up with him next to my bed every morning.  I fed him breakfast and dinner.  I walked him come hell or high water.  I picked up his poop and sprayed off the patio furniture that he routinely marked.  He wasn't a good dog, but he was mine, all white fur and wet nose and toward the end, bad hip and bad attitude.

The day we took him in was one of the worst days I've ever experienced.  Not to sound melodramatic, but he was an every day part of our family, and to suddenly not have him anymore was incredibly painful.  I know life will go on and it will go on happily.  I have so much to be thankful for.  But, when I stop to think about him, I'm very sad and I mourn.  I know that we made the right grown up decision, even though it sucked.  I wanted to write this blog about him, in part as therapy for me and also to honor his time in our family.  Here's to you, Pistol Pete.