After a much needed sleep-in, we headed for Rincon with Kelley and the boys. Punk had a blast surfing the big waves, while Kooka stuck to the waist deep sandbar about waist deep. I, for one, will never, ever
ever dig my toes into the wet sand again - the live animals Kelley pulled from the shore made me more than a little uneasy. We found shells, lobster tails, sea slugs, more sandcrabs than we needed to, and tons of giant crab claws. Punk was so enthralled with the tide pools, and body surfing, that I had to drag him out of the ocean to get him dried off for the rest of our trip.
After goodbyes to our cousins, we headed to Bakersfield, CA. I won't say much about that trip here - there aren't enough words, but I will say this - when I stood in the place where my mother died, my own 7 year old held my hand and said "Thank you for letting me see this mommy," it was even worse . . . or maybe better, than visiting that gravestone.
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