I do not want to live in California forever.  That much is clear, but spring in California – it doesn’t get any better.  We’ve had a very very rainy winter, which I love – fireplace and books and sewing – and now the sun has reappeared and all’s right with the world, and so much sweeter for the constant rain we had.  Mamas and Papas are strolling with their newborns snuggled on their chests and their toddlers in strollers, the parks are filled with people and kids, the tulips have done their thing and now the iris step to center stage, the roses are ready to bloom ( deer: step away from the rosebush, step away from the rosebush).

This is the year our orange tree matured, graduated from college, moved out of the house and started a family of its own.  We have a bumper crop of oranges, I am having to give them away.  They are small, no bigger than a tennis ball.  You can’t really peel them, only cut them in quarters, bring them to your lips and have the pulp melt off the peel and into your mouth.  I have never tasted such sweet and juicy oranges.  I can’t even believe they are from my tree.  The last few years were sparse – no fruit at all one year, and one year we had a showing but the squirrels got to them first.  Finally my efforts of oil spraying to keep away pests and fertilizing have paid off.

Over the weekend we got up bright and early and met our old friend Jeff at Pacifica Sea Bowl, a vintage bowling lanes on the coast that has Sunday morning $15/lane bowling 9-10:30 a.m.  We could have taken photos of the clear and sunny coastline and used them for postcards it was so quintessential.  It reminded me of when Al and I first lived here – newly wed, to each other and the California.  We’d camp at least once a month in the good weather and honeymooned our way to the land of the Beach Boys and I couldn’t believe our good fortune.  We have had many wonderful beach vacations with the whole family.  I often chastise myself that I don’t make time to go to the ocean more often – it’s half an hour a way for heaven’s sake.

I don’t know.  Maybe we’ll stay.  I have made peace with Illinois and now feel it is within my capability to go there each year for a month to soothe my midwestern soul.  And with my Jeff moving to Kansas (you didn’t know?) I will get some wheat fixes in that way too.

I’d keep writing but I can’t wait another second, I need to go eat an orange.

P.S. I bowled a 126, a lifetime record for me.  Maybe I’m actually starting to “get it.”  My average is a solid 84, I was very excited to get that over-hundred and twenty score.  Skiing, bowling, I’m having my second childhood…