What We Pay For

You've got to admit, biking at the beach in January is pretty sweet. (Especially if you've grown up in the mid west.) Back in early January we loaded up the bikes and went to Santa Monica for a little beach day. It was actually the weekend of the Rose Bowl so we were not super excited to find GOBS of people swarming the place, Oregon and Ohio sweatshirts abounding.

The brilliant ibert.

We biked far enough down the coast we couldn't see the pier (or the people) anymore. We found the prettiest beach with a fun outcropping of rocks that the kids played on for about a half an hour.

As I was biking back to the car Rachael started yelling "HORSE!" and pointing wildly toward the building we just passed. I hadn't even noticed the carousel inside.

Driving home I couldn't resist taking more pictures of downtown. (There's Bob looking on.)

The traditional post-beach meal. What else is there? Seriously.

What more could you ask for? Simple menu . . .

Cute uniforms (look at that safety pin!) and fresh potatoes ready for frying . . .

Satisfied kids.

Heaven on earth, wrapped in a paper bag.