We were in Los Angeles part of last week and it felt like zipping forward into summer. Sun! So much sun. Who knew I'd be slathering sunscreen on my shoulders the day before Christmas. During our stay, we caught up with my extended family, hiked from my grandmother's house in the Hollywood Hills to a lookout point for the Hollywood sign, walked over the footprints and handprints at Grauman's, ate dinner the first night at Pig N' Whistle and brunch the last day at Alcove, watched the sunset at The Getty, explored Griffith Observatory. On Christmas day we brought flowers to the cemetery where my grandfather is buried, and we had tamales for dinner, and some of us played music late into the night and some of us just listened.
I haven't gone on vacation in the last two years, and I had sort of forgotten how restorative it can be. You start to get numb to your surroundings when you stay in them too long. But leaving, spending four days with family in the sunshine, sleeping in a house that isn't yours, eating different food, forgetting what day it is, watching the world shrink back through an airplane window: what a good thing.