On going home.

Yesterday, the Beau and I returned from a too-brief sojourn to South Carolina. How is it that going home is simultaneously so wonderful and so painful? I'm always depressed my first day back in LA after being at home. I can't bring myself to do any of the things I need to do or go the places I thought I wanted to go when we returned, and to add insult to injury, I can't even drown my sorrows in jalapeño pimento cheese, because it doesn't exist here (a fact that makes my father question whether California is, in fact, a third world country). 

I thought I would share with you a few photos from the trip; it was a quiet week filled with family and not much else (except for jalapeño pimento cheese). Throwing the ball for the Bean, catching up with my three year-old nephew, who is very much into Legos and swimming (in his clothes, never in a bathing suit) and very much not into the potty. Three is hard, isn't it? They're like adorable, small terrorists at that age. 

Evening ritual: wine for us, tennis ball for her.

Evening ritual: wine for us, tennis ball for her.

Modeling Aunt Wachel's hat.

Modeling Aunt Wachel's hat.

My new Lego house, designed by Sir James.

My new Lego house, designed by Sir James.

Our last day there, we took the boat out to our favorite shell beach, a sea-turtle nesting area accessible only by boat. We were the only people on the beach, and we ran and chased waves and looked for shells and floated in the empty ocean.

I hope you're all having a wonderful long weekend. Enjoy the short week!