It's been a busy few days.
We're on vacation in San Diego and having an amazing time. I got a whole passel of tight-deadline work assigned to me right before I left, so I've been juggling writing into my mornings and nights and feeling very smug about having a job that moves with me wherever I go.
My good friend and her family joined us here, and spending this week with her has been fabulous. Like me, she is a teacher and a busy mom, and having that second mom around as back-up made everything smooth as chocolate over the last few days.
Two of us to pack things up. Two of us to cast around for left behind shoes, hair bands, ipods, water bottles and all the other thousand things that daughters travel with.
Also two of us to sit by the pool last night, chatting and giggling. We watched the sunset and sipped our wine marveling that we could be so calm and so ready to see the fireworks. Everything and everyone was in place, hours ahead of time. It didn't have the usual frantic feel of a Fourth of July, as you jostle to get everyone into position and situated in the darkening night.
Just before dusk, while the sun was staining the clouds with gold, a summer rain fell. Completely refreshing and magical in its unexpectedness. Filled me with hope and joy that I sent radiating out to you as well.
Over the San Diego Bay, we saw at least eight simultaneous firework displays. Four of them were synchronized, separated by miles along the coast. The one closest to us had an echo of lights right behind it. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, green sparkles and golden fizz and bright, white, cold lights like diamonds in the sky hanging over the same buildings where I once worried about broken teacups.
Some teacups are never meant to break, and light might be fizzing up with the next rocket's burst.