Mommy and me getaway.

This past weekend, my mother, my baby and I went to the Bay Area to visit my aunt and her husband.  It had been years since my mom and I had traveled alone together, and we had a delightful time of it.  Even though we arrived on separate flights, we spent just about every other moment of our trip together.  It was a mamapalooza weekend.

We headed into San Francisco with my aunt on Saturday morning for the Ferry Plaza Farmers Market on the embarcadero which is still, hands down, the best farmer's market.  Organic, fresh, colorful, and the food and other stuff for sale are equally so.  Seriously, if you never bought anything at the market, although you'd be missing out on amazing things like tempura asparagus with parmesan and balsamic vinegar, just going for the people-watching is worth the effort.  Judi, my aunt, carried Nadia almost the entire time, and, judging by the photo below, they both enjoyed themselves.  The market was more crowded than I've seen in the past, and most likely due to the Bay to Breakers race the next day.  But that just made things more interesting.

On our way back to San Anselmo we headed toward the coast and went through the tiny town of Bolinas where, 37 years ago, on a family vacation, my mother got the confirmation that she was, indeed, pregnant with yours truly.  She made a call from the only pay phone to my dad's mother, who had arranged for the pregnancy test, and then headed back to the beach house with what she assured me were equal parts joy and dread.  Joy for being pregnant, dread for having to tell my grandparents.  But my grandmother, having been pregnant herself six times, figured out on her own that her lovely, nauseated sixteen-year-old daughter did not have the flu or food poisoning.  You can bet that shit was flying into every fan for miles around and that those two weeks in Bolinas must have been the longest two weeks for everyone in that beach house.  And I don't think my father's arrival on his motorcycle a few days later helped much.  But, there I was, nearly 37 years later, driving down memory lane with my mother and my aunt and my own daughter with me in the car.  I love family history, my family history.  I love my mother for being joyful.

On Sunday my mom, the baby and I went into downtown San Anselmo for something highly caffeinated and something chocolate-croissant-y, and stumbled across this antique flea market spread out over several blocks on the town's main drag.  We walked around and gazed and planned and oooohed and aaaahed at all the gloriously old stuff we saw.  I could have easily picked up half of everything and traded in my rented Hyundai for a U-Haul to get it all back home.  I almost did come home with a lovely antique quilt for a steal at $65.00.  And now I have the antithesis of buyer's remorse - regretting NOT buying the silly thing.  I just loved the happenstance of this experience in my favorite little town north of The Bridge, and how it solidified my affection for it.  I've always wanted to live there, and it was especially torturous that the house right, smack next door to my aunt's house was for sale and sporting an open house this same day.  For a mere $1,125,000, I could own my own little piece of town in the form of a 1940's vintage, completely remodeled, 4 bedroom 2 bath home with, get this, a freakin' artist's studio in the backyard.  This little house was perfection and I'd give anything to make it mine, except for the 1,125,000 smackeroos.  Don't have it to give.  (heavy sigh)

Then after a walk along the river and a dinner of my mom's famous Broccoli Chicken Casserole, a bottle or two of some lovely sauvignon blanc and some family TV, it was off to bed, with my heart heavy with missing my husband and The Bigs, and the sadness of leaving the warmth and beauty of the Desmond household and my lovely San Anselmo. 

Yesterday was a hectic day of travel with an infant and flight delays, followed by two screaming kids and a grinning husband running out to greet us with hugs and kisses and tales of a fabulous weekend with daddy.  And even though I talked with them every day while I was away, and even though I'd already heard it all, I listened again, happy to be within arms reach of their gloriously warm, familiar bodies.  And Nadia, my good little traveler, was happy to be in the middle of it all, safe in daddy's arms and within eyesight of her favorite little brown people.

It is always, always, ALWAYS, good to be home.  Even if it's not in San Anselmo.

Comments

[Lain]

GREAT story, great memories!
Thank you for sharing.
xoxoxo
Lain

[Judi and Bob]

Thank you, Tina, for so beautifully memorializing your time up in Northern California - that we were so lucky to share with you, Nadia and your Mom (my sweet sister). We love your voice in your writing and your priceless photos. Thank you too for sharing the darling pics of Aidan and Makena in the superhero outfits!
Love,
Aunt Judi and Uncle Bob