Fanfare and Drumroll (please?)

Um, yeah, I'm back.

My whole family decided to join me in the running-away-from-home approach to facing (not) one's challenges. I'm happy to report that the turn-tail-and-skedaddle-for-a-minute plan evidently works.

There is some irony in this theory, as in everything around me. I live in a vacation destination. People pay money to stare at my horse paddocks from their B&B windows after wine tasting and rural art gallery tours. They find it very relaxing to be here. Anyone care to dissect or otherwise psychoanalyze my contrary nature?

Oh. Okay.

Cupid has struck. I so heart my new camera. The EGE should worry. He's the one who introduced us, after all. You might say he set us up. And then he sealed the deal with a week in San Francisco, the city that already had a large part of my heart anyway. (It was just the adrenaline-junkie, forever-young, city-loving part of my heart, but it turns out that no matter how old I get, San Francisco can perform CPR on the sleeping reckless in me.)

We were gone to SF for a week. Did you miss me? I wasn't clever or organized or blogthoughtful enough to line up guest posts (or even fore thinking enough to schedule some posts). I just... went away from cyberspace for a minute. And it felt GREAT.

The girls loved loved LOVED the city. Madeleine's favorite? The Giants game in AT&T Park.

Those seats? Baseball fans will recognize my statistical and historical accuracy when I say, that's the nosebleed section, for $27 per heine. (Surprisingly the Giants did not charge extra for my pie-enhanced rear.) Plus we enjoyed $8 hot dogs and $5 sodas all around. I was completely miffed when the vendors wouldn't discuss an amortized loan, but still, totally worth it. Gracie spent nine innings chanting, "You say 'go,' I say 'Giants!' Okay!" The EGE reminded her as he has the older girls that it takes lots of math and science to become a cheerleader.

Oh! And in case you didn't know, there are multiple kid SLIDES inside of that huge Coke bottle. There were some genius planners of the park. Also, you can watch a baseball bat being made by a real woodworker and then take your child's picture in a chair-sized leather baseball glove. And then take a picture of your next child, and your next, until the grumpy grandpa in line behind you mutters, "How many kids does this lady got?" And then you can get tempted to be a leetle passive aggressive and try out all the cool filters and lenses that your husband sprang for when he bought your camera. It'll only take a minute. Really. And some people need to learn patience; clearly it's in their best interest to learn it from a woman with four children who just spent a small fortune to park three miles away from the stadium. See how I can rationalize? I'm happy to hire out the service. Also, freebie rationalization for friends' needs. Short notice too!

(Digressing again.)

Sarah's favorite thing about San Francisco? Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl eaten on Pier 39 after a magic show and a little sea lion gazing:

Gracie's favorite? Lombard Street ("the crooked one"). Or, the cable cars, of course! Or, the sea lions. Or, spin a big wheel of fortune and take your pick -- she's such a happy kid that she loved it all.

Laura, for her part, showed her approval by sprouting another tooth (dang if that baby isn't determined to grow up) and slurping homemade spaghetti at her Great Uncle Bill's house. Family was my favorite part of the trip.

Look at all those adorable kids:

I coulda brought every single one of them home with me, except their parents (my cousins) might have minded.

Ah, San Francisco. We did everything touristy and even took some night photos to celebrate the new camera. Next on my list, knows the sweet EGE, is a tripod. I need it to avoid those annoying squiggly lights that make it look like there was an earthquake while I was taking the picture. There wasn't. That was me breathing.

Oh! And I forgot! I got caught in a skunk fight! We used to have an attorney who advised us to never get in a pissing match with a skunk. He was speaking metaphorically, of course, but I recalled his advice in a jiffy when I scrambled down off a Golden Gate Park hillside in a hurry and yelled for the EGE to step on the gas now. He didn't believe me about the skunks. Nosiree, Blog, he thought I was hallucinating after our drive through Haight Ashbury. But alas and alack, I was seeing and smelling the real deal.

Ah, San Francisco. It's good to be home in Podunkville.