On Friday my cousin Frances came down from Seattle to stay the weekend with us, herself a new addition to a university there, and we being only a few hours and a train ride apart, and having a mostly comfortable futon and a bookstore the size of a large city block.

After many a soft pretzel on Friday night with Rhi, Carrisa, Amanda & friends, on Saturday we high-tailed it to the coast via a heavily golden-hued Highway 26, where my sister and her husband, and even more friends and family were waiting for a day of beach combing, home-made chili eating and pumpkin carving.

The beach combing was Iggy’s favorite part of the day, as evidenced by his literal squealing and squawking with delight as he darted diagonally to and fro between ocean foam and seagulls, he being a side-winder when it comes to walking, always:

He was admittedly less than thrilled about the actual water part of the beach:

Which is a bit situationally ironic seeing as how he always ends up getting completely soaked anyway, due mostly to the close proximity of his wee frame to the actual water on the ground:

In between Iggy’s bouts of ocean-inspired glee, there was more meandering:
(How to tell beach walking veterans from novices: they roll their pants to their mid-calf, carry their shoes and walk barefoot. The rest of us soak our socks, our shoes and our jeans, too.)

And an obligatory shot of Haystack Rock (or seven):

There were also Hitchcockian amounts of birds along the part of the beach where we were walking:

And–you guessed it!–more meandering, wherein I snapped my favorite picture of the day, of Theresa and Frances, and Iggy closing in on their heels:

After enjoying some delicious home-made fare that included pumpkin pie and fresh whipped cream, the much anticipated pumpkin carving festivities commenced.

Making a mess that smells like fresh pumpkins is preferred by three out of four pumpkin carvers!

Especially when the innards of one unique pumpkin ends up looking like spaghetti squash:

Babycarrot sister prevailed, and carved an abstract marathon runner into her pumpkin, inspired by the bib from her own recent 26.2 run:

The glowing remains of the day:

On Sunday Frances and Chris shared copious amounts of music after breakfast, eventually realizing they both adore Tool (no, thanks), and that the next time Tool plays either Portland or Seattle they will be concert going dates, thereby alleviating me of the duty (yes, please), and then she and I set out to see as much of the city as we could with the few hours left before her return train.

After walking along sidewalks covered in freshly fallen leaves throughout Nob Hill and then oogling the endless stacks of new and used books at Powell’s, we headed to Hawthorne to evaporate a few more dollars in our wallets, and, finally tired of modestly stimulating the economy, came home, wherein Iggy seemingly started to realize how much he was going to miss Frances when she had to leave.

Hours later and he’s still pacing the room looking for her, hiding underneath the chair maybe, or behind the bookshelf.