Steppin' out with my baby...

This weekend we took a trip out to L.A. to visit my brother in law. I was slightly apprehensive about the trip, but solely based on my preconceptions about what L.A. is. To some degree, I was right, but also very surprised.

I am not really a big city person. I live in one of the bigger metropolitan areas of the country, but it has never really felt like it. I don't know if it is the abundance of trees and lakes or that the people (at least in St. Paul) don't act like big city people. Regardless, going even to Chicago feels like stepping into an alien landscape to me.

L.A. pretty much felt that way as we flew in. The city lights stretched out forever out the window of the plane and at such a prefect grid. Later, as we skirted the Pacific Palisades, the smog over Long Beach looked as if the city was on fire.

But we spent most of our time in Rodondo Beach, Venice Beach, Laguna Beach and all the sunny beaches in between, mang. The weather was great, the ocean was the Ocean (which is always awe inspiring), and it was marvelous to smell the salt and hear the birds, feel the sand and stare at the sea creatures... and to drink really good beer.


Yes, I finally rediscovered my Fantome-original, got to drink Gulden Draak on tap, and Emily had a tap Lindeman's Lambic as well, all at this little barnacle of a bar clinging to the pier in Rodondo Beach.

Well, here are a few more shots (I left out Emily's family for their privacy, but there are some good shots. 95% of them are of our nephew):