The Hub and his siblings scattered Mom Barbara into the waves off Venice Beach. More people than I expected came, recalling the woman in her prime, during her sobriety, during which she was Force With Which To Be Reckoned. I think this was during the 1980s, and a wee bit of the '90s. Photos of her were exchanged, laughs were had, and more than a little morbid humor darted here and there. We cried and laughed. I brushed Barbara from my brothers-in-law and cried a bit.
Then a bunch of us went to Rose Cafe in Venice, ate and looked at pictures, caught up with people we rarely saw. It was nice, but a horrible excuse to see each other. I think many of us will be at my niece's high school graduation, which will be happier and less odd.
The Hub and I went to Santa Barbara, stayed at a nice inn, and ate very well. A friend of ours had lots of vouchers for wonderful restaurants. I'm not much of a foodie, but I got a good insight into how a person might become obsessed with sauces, reductions and vintage balsamic vinegar. We were very dressed far too casual for one of the places, but the maitre d' showed us to a nice table away from the kitchen (nice) and we had a delighful time. The rest of our time was spent sleeping (I can only sleep fairly well when I'm away from home!) and walking off our meals.
I'm hoping to have tea time with the delightful
devilandmouse tomorrow. That'd be cool.
I'm off to catch up with LJ stuff: friends and porn, mainly. Ta!