Tides of March

Pap-Pap was just here for a visit, thank goodness. We had a great time with him, as always, and not only because of all the home repairs that were consulted upon and completed. Although, I have to admit, that element of his visit was pretty great. We built a gate! And when I say "we" I mean I held a couple of boards and sunk a few screws and then when into the house and cooked a big pot of Italian Wedding Soup while my dad built a gate. It's a really cool gate.

Whenever Dad comes out to California he insists upon going to the beach for a meal. I like driving down to the ocean just fine, but I've never really understood his almost pathological need to do this every visit. Not only does he live in a state that is on a coast, his house is on the water. It's not like Dad and Sandi live in Nebraska. But, that's his thing, and it's a small thing to ask so we try to do it, which is good because it always turns out to be a good thing. Being near the ocean, even for a short time...I don't know, it's restorative.

I didn't think we'd make it down this time. The most convenient time for such an excursion is the weekend, but the weekend was full of other things. Spring soccer game. Birthday party. Friends of mine in town from Pennsylvania. To say nothing of the fact that we went into the weekend as a sick household. Saturday was a recuperation day after a week of knock-down colds in the house. I don't think a one of us got out of our pajamas all day long, and that includes my dad. Not that such a thing is odd for him, come to think of it.

Given that getting to the beach over the weekend was an impossibility, I figured it just would not be in the cards for Pap-Pap's visit this time. I knew he would be disappointed, but what could I do? We had house projects to accomplish during the day, and then had to pick up Kiernan from school and get him home for homework, soccer practice, dinner, bath, and bed. How exactly would a trip down to the Pacific work into that routine?

Oh shush. Just do it, said a little voice in my head, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Wendy's. We--er...Dad--finished the gate just before we needed to pick up Kiernan on Wednesday, and I called an audible. "We're going down to Malibu after pickup," I told Dad. "We'll have an early dinner at a place we've never tried before." "Cool," he replied.

We picked up Kiernan and headed down to the Coast, to a little place in Malibu called Paradise Cove. I've been intending to check this place out for awhile now, so why not on this day? So Kiernan has to get his homework done. Why not do it down there?

Luckily because of some language assessments they're doing in school presently it's a light week for homework. Kiernan cleared his math homework and completed his daily log (an accounting of what went on that he discusses with his parents and we write down and turn in each day) while we waited for our food to come to the table. Then we had a lovely meal and headed out to the beach.

Paradise Cove is a cool little place. The food at the Paradise Cove Beach Cafe was just okay. To quote my dad, "It's beach food." But the ambiance is perfect and the service was great, and if you look at the homework picture above you see that after eating you just get up from the table and walk out onto the beach. The place has this great combination of public and private. It wasn't hard to get to, or to get a table, and once you've got the validation from your meal your parking is covered for the next few hours. Of course it's a Wednesday afternoon in March, so I imagine the place is packed at other times. But even though we got in without a problem it still felt like we were in a private area because of the way the cove curves around. There is a feeling of seclusion. On one side is this pier, which was sadly closed for some reason or other, and on the other end is a huge cliff. Kiernan and Pap-Pap went down that way to explore and I let them have some time together while I sat and watched the ocean and let my mind wander for a bit.

That's a picture of the two of them emerging from around the edge of the cove. If you squint you can see them silhouetted there in the distance.

I used the word "restorative" in an above paragraph. I suppose I have to admit my dad has a point. His insistence that we get to the beach during his visits isn't just for him. Not only can the man build a damn fine gate, turns out he's also got a bit of wisdom to share as well.

We miss you Pap-Pap, and are grateful for your visit and to Sandi for making it happen.