Robb and I drove down to Santa Cruz to spend another day with extended family. (What is the name for one's sister's sister-in-law's family, anyway?)
We rode the steam train through the redwoods at Roaring Camp, which was a blast. I always take pictures of these amazing trees, but the photographs never work out. How can you express the grandeur of a forest full of trees that are often almost three hundred feet tall, and fifteen hundred years old? Not with this crummy taken-from-a-moving-train snapshot, that's for sure. I had hoped to create a letterbox for this place, but what I made was pretty stinky. Hopefully, I can get together with one of my San Jose pals (hint, hint) and we can collaborate on something at a later date.
I wasn't sure that an hour and a half long drive, followed by an equally long train ride was going to be a pleasant experience for Robb. After the train, we went out to lunch with Martha, Neil and Lindsay and some of their friends who were also visiting Santa Cruz from Brooklyn, and Robb took the opportunity to lay down in the car while everyone else was hanging out. I used to feel horribly guilty about this, but I figure that Robb is capable of letting me know what he needs. If he needs to lay down, he'll do that, and when we need to leave, he'll tell me.
Since we were already in Santa Cruz, we decided to hang out on the beach. Robb found that laying on the sand really suited his back. We joked about building a heated sandbox for him to sleep in, but realized that if we did that, the cats would no longer be allowed to sleep with us. ("Honey, what's that scratching sound?")
Unfortunately, the drive back was just too much and by the time we got home, Robb was in a lot of discomfort. We've got to learn to take breaks, get off the highway, find a parking lot, and let Robb recline. Still, a day spent with friends and family in the woods and at the beach counts as a Very Good Day.