But then I remembered about Ventura, which is just north of LA. When Rocket Boy and I were "dating," i.e., spending all our time together before we decided to get married, we took a short trip to Los Angeles with Rocket Boy's father, who had grown up there. (Actually he grew up in Germany until he was about 10, then he emigrated to the U.S., and then he finished growing up in Los Angeles.) RB's dad had just turned 80, was diabetic and deaf and quite feeble (and had less than a year to live), but he wanted to go to the beach. So we drove to Ventura and went to a beach there. RB's dad took his shoes off, sat in the sand, and wiggled his toes. It's a nice memory.
With that in mind, we studied maps and devised a route to Ventura that Mapquest thought would take us 3 hours. I figured Mapquest was being conservative and it would take 2 and a half.
Mapquest was not being conservative and it took 3 hours. And Baby B screamed the whole way. But other than that it was a nice 178-mile drive. We took Highway 14 to Santa Clarita, where we picked up Highway 126, and that took us past various farming communities (Fillmore, Santa Paula) all the way to Ventura (which is also a farming community, except that it is right next to the ocean and has very nice beaches).
I should note that it was predicted to be cold and drizzly today. I grew up in northern California where it's always cold and drizzly at the beach, so I didn't think that would be a problem. We hoped it would mean that some of the other million people thinking about going to the beach this weekend would stay home.
We drove to Ventura Harbor Village, which is an attractive group of shops right on the Ventura harbor, and had lunch at a pleasant little restaurant called Christy's. Then we drove just down the road to a very nice beach called Harbor Cove Beach. There was plenty of parking and plenty of room on the beach.
First, Rocket Boy showed the boys what an ocean is.
They were nervous about the waves, but liked many other things about the beach and ocean: the boats, the ah-ahs (in this case, gulls), the sand. We went over to the cove area of the beach, where the waves were much gentler, and set up shop right in front of the lifeguards. Then Dada actually went swimming!
But the boo bears were having none of that. I put them into their swim diapers and they enjoyed running around on the beach, but they wanted nothing to do with the water. Instead, as usual, they ate snacks.
Eventually I sat down in the sand with them and we made sand castles with the nice wet sand. Every sand castle, big and small, was pronounced a birthday cake for their cousin Matt (whose birthday is tomorrow), and we sang Happy To-Day YOU! over and over again -- before smashing each "cake" with glee.
A confession: I am not really a huge beach fan. I like sitting on a rock and looking at the ocean, but I don't like getting sand in my shoes and my hair and my bag and all my stuff. But this afternoon, sitting in the sand, wiggling my toes, I was so happy. It just felt great. It had been much too long.
Oh, and the weather? It was gorgeous! It was cloudy when we drove into town, around 1 pm, but by the time we finished lunch the sun was out. It wasn't hot, it wasn't cold, it was just perfect. Just ravishingly delightfully perfect.
After a couple of hours we packed up and went to a Peet's coffee shop that we had spotted on our drive through Ventura, where we had a nice snack, and then we headed for home. It was a long drive home, too, and Baby B screamed the entire time.
So we might not go back to the beach right away. But it was still a lovely day.
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