Why are my trips to San Fran always too short?

Last weekend's trip to SF was outrageous. Outrageously screwed up. Think elaborate plan, mechanic breaking plane, part not available, scrambling for commercial flight, missing BART train, missed flight, frustrated fuming (him), frustrated crying (me), and sitting around in an airport for 12 million hours, which led to pretty great conversations, so it was salvaged, as much as possible. I don't EVEN want to go into any more detail than that, I'm just glad we escaped without a medical emergency, but I wanted to post some California goodness.




Pilot's rich uncle (I have a rich uncle, too. Does everyone? Do you?) has this awesome store. The window display is a meth lab.




Obligatory shots. Oooo, pretty.




I love, love, love Muir Woods. Makes me feel tiny, like a fairy or something. Maybe an elf.














Wouldn't you love to live here...





It's right next to this...


...and this.


The kids were chilling...



...while a fancy wedding commenced on the beach.