Sunday drive.

Sunday found me driving north on I-5 from San Diego to Dana Point, CA. We didn't live in California for very long, but there are a few things that flash back every time I'm in this state. Wading in the ocean with my sister and mom (and another adult - Uncle T. seems unlikely, but that's the laugh I remember hearing), the two of us kids running back to splash in one more wave, and Momola racing back down the beach as the water knocked us over. Starfish crawling on my arms. Ice plant. Breaking off segments to play hopscotch by the school, watching the sun shrivel the pieces like raisins in the sun, using the pieces to write on walls. As I pass through town, these memories are juxtaposed by the sight of the Mormon temple, and the picture of me sitting next to Annie as we head to the Whole Foods right across the way when I came down for a visit. We were driving the same car that took us to Whole Foods in Charlottesville, where Em would sample from the bulk bins as we shopped for our nightly haphazard dinners. Dinners consisting of someone making risotto, someone making chicken on the Foreman grill, someone cutting up cheese and vegetables, and everything ending up on bowls of salad - with Em and the other swimmers spearing food from any dish within reach, whether pot, serving dish, or another's plate of food. These are the images that flash through my head whenever I drive through San Diego. It's not a bad mental collage.