Just an Incredible Day

Lead with the best, or save it for last? Begin at the beginning or work back from the end? Devour dessert first or graze leisurely through the courses, savoring every bite? I'll label the parts of the day for you, friend, and you may choose.

Salad
Saturday. Not any Saturday, but a Saturday in late September. That means blue skies, warm breezes and a day long enough to pack in some adventure. Our destination was somewhat low-key (see entry on "doing nothing all weekend" below) yet decidedly fun: we were going to Moss Beach to visit the 3 Zero Cafe. It was a scouting trip to see if the location would be suitable for Gracie's upcoming 9th birthday celebration. The main party event will center on tide-pooling under the guidance of our marine biologist cousin Dean. Lunch for a half-dozen girls in a fun, coastside location? Tiny airports are entertaining, and they are famous for having yummy food. We had high expectations.

Puppy Boy Roscoe could not be left behind, however, despite his recent gnoshing on the van's rear seat. We decided to bring him along and try out the new canvas travel crate Danny and I spotted at PetSmart a few days ago. The crate would make the half-hour journey safe for dog, humans and van; once there, Joe and I figured we'd take turns eating while the other held the leash.

So, off we head, happy to be together. Roscoe was the least happy member until he settled down with a Smelly Bone. Now, traffic might have been thick on such a beautiful Saturday during High Pumpkin Season, being that Half Moon Bay is the land of all things pumpkin patchy. We guessed we lucked out because at least 500 million people must have been circling San Francisco trying to get into the opening of the California Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park. (See, there is some justice for having to take it easy and do almost nothing.)

Appetizer
When we arrived at 3 Zero Cafe I had a flash: what if that dog-loving coast had a dog-loving airport cafe? Before unloading the crew, I walked into the funky restaurant, through the lobby and out the back to the airport side where people were sitting at picnic tables. Sure enough, I spotted one dog under a table. Then, another. Yes! A dog patio! Joe and the kids, and I'm including Roscoe here, settled at a table while I checked in at the front. A thin layer of fog edged the hills around the airport as we watched planes take off and land. Roscoe took delight in his Nasty Bone, happy to be included in a human adventure. And we soon learned why the cafe has been rated, as the menu declared, best breakfast joint on the coast for some 10 years running. The chocolate milk arrived with thick whipped cream piled high; the orange juice was freshly squeezed and sporting seeds to prove it; french toast, fresh fruit, eggs and coffee did not disappoint. We spoke to the manager about having the birthday lunch there and it's a go.

Main Course
After convincing Roscoe to allow his puppyness to be recrated, we drove north to Poplar Beach, a coastal access point and entry to the bluffs. The trail stretches for miles along the coast, thanks to conservation efforts of many to snap up land and place it into trusts for recreation. I parked myself on a bench at the head of the trail, with a view of the ocean looking north along the coast. Ann Patchett's Run kept me great company while the rest of the family headed south for a Pup Walk. When I'm off nothing duty I'll return with Roscoe as this is one of our favorite walks.

As I'm reading, looking up now and then to check out a passing pooch or toddler, I'm conscious of an everywhere kind of happiness. This is normal. It isn't a big deal or a special thing we're doing. We're all taking for granted that we can have a Saturday together, as a family. The kids are down the trail but they'll be back and full of news about the horse poop that Roscoe ate and which dogs he seemed eager to chase. I'm resting but it isn't because I'm sick; I'm healing and will be back to full-speed in a week or so. I take note. I'm grateful. Life is so very sweet.

A familiar voice brings my head up. A young friend of Danny and Gracie's is on a bike riding with his parents. I call out to them. They come over, we talk about their new school, Roscoe, our breakfast at 3 Zero. How wonderful a day it has been, and the unexpected meeting anoints it.

Dessert
Back home, I am stretched on the sofa with my novel, doing more nothing. Joe has taken the kids to the new Redwood Shores Library for some down time. Just before 4:00 pm the phone rings and, letting it go to the machine, I hear my SIL Cory breathlessly announce that her daughter will be delivering her first child by emergency c-section in about 30 minutes. I make it to the phone in time to catch her, telling her I'll be there. The baby is early but we knew he would be. He has made it to 35 weeks.

Hayden Miles entered the world safely today. He is only 2lbs, 13.5 ounces and 14 inches long. He is breathing without help, though; his lungs are okay. He is feisty, strong and incredibly beautiful in the way only new life can be. His mother is exhausted and recovering. She may wonder why her aunt insisted on hanging around the hospital, peering through the nursery glass and haunting the hallway.

Through the glass of the nursery my children saw their new cousin on the day of his birth. They saw him get his first bath from a neonatal nurse wielding a washcloth. They saw him hold his mom's hand. They celebrated his birthday with Lauren, Hayden's 7-year-old aunt (his mom's baby sister) over pizza at Toto's. While laughing and sipping lemonade we talked about what we would tell Hayden about the day he was born. Driving back to the hospital, we stopped at Shaw's candy store so we could bring back chocolate cigars for new father Owen.

After Dinner Mint
Being present. Bearing witness. Defining family and marking passage. These are the things we offer one another as proof of our love.

Amen. And wecome to the family, Hayden Miles.