Sometimes, when the world that is spinning around you seems to be traveling in an equal, and opposite, direction than your mind- the ticket is to hop on a train and head due south. We decided to take an early morning Amtrak ride, my first on a train, to San Diego with our only destination being brunch at Croce's restaurant in the historic Gaslamp district. After hopping on the train in San Juan Capistrano (literally. who knew these things barely come to a stop? and there was no conductor with neat little hat yelling "all aboard! going to San Diego!", which would have helped immensely), we found seats on the top by the window so we could watch the coast roll by.
We arrived at the downtown station with an hour to spare so we walked along the harbor and pointed out names of ships and islands and stuff boys seem to just naturally know. I worried about my hat flying off, which it eventually did, because one can only walk around with a manta-ray on their heads on a breezy day for so long.
Manta-ray's make better sea creatures than hats. No, I couldn't see a thing.
Obviously, between the delicious brunch, exploring downtown, and a thrilling purchase of a picnic blanket and cheap wine in tiny plastic bottles that we didn't drink, we were enjoying ourselves too much to snap any more photos. It was a great way to spend an afternoon, but honestly, we were both a little anxious to get home...
To this man. Arthur is doing better, not by leaps and bounds just yet, but he is walking around and able to get himself in and out of bed. Poor little dude. He wears his "helmet" to keep him from licking his paws and getting...um...indigestion... not because of his leg. But come on. This belongs in an ASPCA ad with Sarah Mclachlan in the background. We're hopeful he gets all better soon, we're running out of reasons to tell him why he can't play ball with the other kids. But in the meantime, we have the help of our Saint Francis. He has been a resident of this house for almost 20 years, and as the Patron Saint of Animals (see him holding a pigeon? or a dove...), I don't think he minds the few layers of bird leavings.