New year, new try.

1/2/14

I made myself another promise, to devote 30 minutes a day to writing, regardless of how it looks.  I've done this in the past, obviously the year of writing being the most successful, but I need to reset my routine to include something so necessary. 

My daughter Isla is 5.  This scares me, because I don't have a clear distinction between 4 and 5, or 3 and 4 for that matter - time is one of those things that makes absolutely no sense the older I get.  It does not seem to bother her, however, as she is coasted beautifully through her toddler and preschool years.  As of now she is completely obsessed with learning - Greek myths, how flying works, what the hell a sea anemone is good for... she needs to know.  I like to make up stories that have sort of true things in them, which makes for interesting conversations because she can smell my bologna from a mile away when I'm working on a half-truth.  It's fun.

Today was all about the beach.  We saw some tidepools and carefully walked around the anemones, hermit crabs and starfish.  We even found a dead skate - which smelled worse than my bologna.  I really like the word bologna.  When searching for sea creatures got old, we did what any self respecting Californian would do in the middle of winter:  we went swimming.  Or, I should say, Miles went swimming on accident, got sand stuck up his nose and in his ears, and then caterwauled all the way back up the 99 stairs (Isla counted) to the car.  Dad should have brought a towel.  I mean it was the beach.  Come on dad.

I am loving southern California in wintertime, though.  I kind of forgot what cold is.