Running down to the riptide

The dashboard of my car is littered with California State Beach parking passes. My knees are perpetually bruised. There is sand in every crevice of my life: the seats of my car, the foot of my bed, the corners of the shower and trapped in my ears. And this weekend late-sleeper is waking up early in anticipation just about every Sunday.

Oh yeah, and strangers say things to me like "How was the swell?" and "That's a sweet skeg!" like I know what they're talking about.





























My first time on a surfboard was a little over six years ago. My friends and I took a lesson at Ron Jon Surf Shop in Cocoa Beach, Fla. With the help of an instructor I got up right away, and BOOM. Like a bolt of lightening, I was ob-sessed. Never before and never since has something felt so absolute to me – I was meant to surf. It wasn’t that I was especially good, it just felt right. For all the reasons we moved to California, this might be my #1. We can pretend it’s about career opportunities and returning to my roots and all that, but really, it’s the surfing.

With my memory of that lesson, a few YouTube videos and a lucky surfboard borrowed from my landlord, I started hitting the waves in June. (Do real surfers say “hitting the waves?”) I felt instantly welcomed by my fellow surfers. They offered helpful tips and encouragement without me saying a word. Several have even timed the waves for me and told me when to wait, when to paddle, when to pop. Timing is everything, and those are the few times I’ve actually gotten up, even if only briefly. I could hug those guys for that. One surfer who obviously got a kick out of my climb-on-the-board, fall-off-the-board, climb-on-the-board routine said, “If you’re having that much fun doing THAT, you must be hooked!” Indeed. I could flounder about for hours and still have the time of my life.

I've even convinced Pat to try it.

The biggest surprise to me is how peaceful it is in the ocean. The shore is a turbulent place, but it's unusually calm just beyond the break of waves. Despite the many scary things that can catch you off guard out there – sharks, rip currents, jellyfish – the ocean triggers no anxiety in me. It’s a baffling effect.

The title for this post comes from what I call my surfing song. I hum it to myself as I wait in the quiet water for a good wave, and I play it every time on my way home, just as the day is beginning to warm up. My muscles like liquid, my hair softened by salt. I will always remember this as the summer that I ran down to the riptide.

Title lyrics – Riptide, Vance Joy

May, she will stay

Tonight I went for a run, my first physical activity since kicking the no-good-very-bad mono virus.

I've spent a lot of time resting the last couple of months, and I've plowed through plenty of books to pass the time. I always turn to my favorite author for comfort when I'm sick. I own every novel by Dean Koontz, double copies of some. Last month I randomly selected "The Husband" off my shelf and was delighted to find that it takes place in Orange County, as many of his books do. This one in particular is set in the city of Orange in May, a moment in time that just so matched mine. 

And as he often does, Koontz countered the fast-paced plot with moments of reflection about the character's surroundings. He so beautifully captured the springtime beauty occurring right in my neighborhood that I felt like he was writing about this very spot. Maybe he was.

I made sure to jot down excerpts from the book and then captured some photos on my run. Southern California has some unique flora, I'll give it that.

He was parked under an old jacaranda in full flower ...

... and when he moved into the light from the street lamp, he saw that he walked on a carpet of purple petals.

Along the night streets, queen palms thrashed, like madwomen in frenzies tossing their hair ...

.. and bottle-brush trees shed millions of scarlet needles that were the petals of their exotic flowers.

I've run out of quotes, but here are some other neighborhood wonders that gave me pause.

Wherein I ask, are you kidding me right now?

I am terrified of this thing and whatever disease it carries.

Treacherous technology

When we first moved here, we theorized that these fake-looking trees were cell phone towers in disguise. Wretched phone companies, we said. How dare they infiltrate nature just so I can have a WiFi signal to write this blog. Turns out, they're Norfolk Island Pines.

Conservation at its best

Folks, that is real, live ... turf. Great for lawns in a desert climate.
You can't fault people for being practical, I suppose.

Title lyrics – April Come She Will, Simon and Garfunkel

Until the sun goes down

Many of you know about my connection to Alzheimer’s disease. My lovable grandpa, Papa, battled Alzheimer's the last five years of his life. He was affectionate and sweet, a story-teller and a family man. He had a head full of white hair and a heart full of kindness. He was tall and handsome, and you could disappear in his hugs.

Papa was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and moved in with my family because he could no longer care for himself. I'm thankful that he didn't become aggressive like many with Alzheimer's do. But it was hard to talk to him, to carry on a conversation and he never could remember meeting Pat. Many people with Alzheimer's deteriorate even further, to a point beyond recognition. It's a terrible disease.

Many people still call it “old timers” disease, and it gets brushed off as simple forgetfulness that comes with old age. It’s much worse than that. The scariest thing about Alzheimer’s is that there is no cure. It is the only cause of death among the top 10 in America that cannot be prevented, cured or even slowed. And it is fatal. What also scares me is that it is often genetic. That means that other people I love, or even myself, can develop Alzheimer’s. I’ve already lost one special person to this disease, and I’m determined not to lose another.

I have been a supporter of the Alzheimer’s Association for over five years now, and my family and friends have continually supported me in all my fundraising shenanigans – a trivia night, a bingo night, a couple of baseball games, my annual walk team and now, The Longest Day.

On June 21, the longest day of the year, people all over the country will come together to do an activity from sunrise to sunset, to honor the endurance of people and their families who are fighting the disease every hour, every day. Some teams are running, some are knitting, some are playing cards. Each team member signs up for a time slot, so it's like a relay, passing the torch from one person to the next, across multiple locations.

My team is Dee Dee’s Water Warriors. We’ll spend June 21 playing in the water! I will report on every hour, showcasing each of my teammates and their activity to end Alzheimer's. If you join my team, you can do anything water-related, like:

• Kayak
• Boat
• Play in the pool
• Take a dip in the Jacuzzi
• Waterski or go tubing
• Organize a float trip or canoe trip
• Surf
• Run through the sprinkler
• Visit a waterpark
• Swim laps at the gym

Please, join me! Commit to a short time block and then ask your friends and family to make a donation to support your activity. All of the donations will go toward Alzheimer’s research, advocacy and support for families dealing with the disease. Message me if you would like more details.

If you’re not able to join the fun or you just don’t particularly like water activities, I sure would appreciate a general donation to my team. Every dollar counts. You can make a donation here.

This is my birthday wish this year: no gifts, just support for my favorite cause.

Thank you, thank you, to everyone, whether you join my team, contribute a couple dollars or cheer on Dee Dee’s Water Warriors from the (dry) sidelines. I appreciate it more than you know.

My dad and his dad, Oceanside, California

Papa ♥

Title lyrics – Mountain Sound, Of Monsters and Men

Out of my league

I've never had a major league ballpark in my backyard before. We could practically walk to Angel Stadium if we wanted to! A big perk of our current location, for sure.

I don't know if I would have been able to see Derek Jeter play one last time otherwise. He's retiring from baseball after this season. He has been my favorite player since I picked his name out of a lineup when I was 13 – for all the right reasons, of course: he had a cool name, I liked the number 2, he grew up Michigan, he played shortstop. I suppose he turned out to be pretty talented, too.

I made sure to get tickets to his last scheduled game in southern California. So did 40,000 other people. What they say is true: There are Yankee fans wherever you go, and it was a sold-out crowd. We lucked out with some great seats and enjoyed a nice farewell ceremony from the Angels, complete with a custom pinstriped paddle board as a gift to Jeter. Only in California.

The game could not have gone more in our favor. The Yankees swept the Angels 9-2, with a home run by Jeter in the 2nd inning. I was ready to catch the ball with my official Derek Jeter Rookie of the Year glove, circa 1996, but it wasn't meant to be.

I have always been a Yankee fan, and yet I've never been to Yankee Stadium. I have only seen them play when most of the audience is rooting for the home team. Not this night. More than once, the crowd chanted "Der-ek Je-ter!" When he came to bat, they stood. And when he scored, you would have thought we were in the house that Ruth built. It was the game of a lifetime.

Title lyrics – Out of My League, Fitz and the Tantrums

Shake, shake, shake, señora

I'm way behind in documenting what was a momentous occasion for us, but I figure better late than never.

About a month ago, we experienced our first earthquake. Of course it was immediately followed by texts, emails and Facebook messages all along the lines of "You're a real Californian now!," "Do you regret moving there?" and my favorite, "Which disaster do you prefer, a tornado or an earthquake?" Umm, neither. (Tornado.)

The quake erupted out of La Habra, just 4 miles north of Fullerton. Fullerton is our new favorite hang-out area, and we just so happened to be enjoying a drink with our visitor Kelly in beautiful downtown Fullerton when it happened. Quite a coincidence. It lasted all of about 6 seconds (longer elsewhere). Here's how it played out.

00:00:01 A slight rumble underfoot. The band playing next door sure is pumping the bass. I’m TRYING to have a CONVERSATION.

00:00:02 I mean, really. The bass is so heavy, it’s shaking that wall. These kids and their rock music.

00:00:03 The ground is really rocking now. Whoa. Are we on a boat? (I'm not the quickest thinker.)

00:00:04 Let me try to stand up.

00:00:05 Let me try to stand up again.

00:00:06 Guys, guys, I figured it out. Earthquake!

Oh you already knew that? You mean quick-thinking Pat had already scoped out the safest place on the patio and was instructing us to get under a table? He’s a good guy to have around, that one.

It was much scarier than I expected. I knew earthquakes could be violent, but you really have no frame of reference until you're in one. I immediately understood how it could easily bring down buildings and bridges. I always figured if one hit, I would run to my safe spot. But I didn't factor in that it would be rocking so much that I would barely be able to walk, let alone run! Lesson learned.

Anyway, that has been our recent excitement. Kelly stayed with us for a week and we ventured out for a few fun activities. We're making friends and finding our social life again. The weather is heating up and I am itching for SUMMER. You'd think you would be in a summer mindset year-round here, but just like anywhere else, the air is filled with an anticipation for scorchingly hot days, cricket-filled nights, and that perfect summer twilight in between.

Pat and Kelly got to see a taping of the Conan O'Brien Show.

Jazz club in Fullerton.

Kayaking at Sunset Beach.

Our first beach bonfire.

Sunset dinner at Laguna Beach.

Title lyrics – Jump in the Line, Harry Belafonte

I do love my ma and pa

We are so lucky to have family visit us. Pat’s brother Kelly stayed with us back in November. This month, my parents came for almost a week. It was wonderful. I admit, I like living in a tropical spot so we can offer guests a nice vacation in addition to our company.

My mom moved to California when she was a kid, and my dad escaped snowy Michigan to move here in his 20s. They met while both working at the Orange County Register some 34 years ago. We spent a lot of time driving around their old stomping grounds and marveling at how things have changed since then (except the In’n’Out Burger menu – that’s deliciously the same). My mom’s brother and sister still live here. We had a nice family reunion, with the three of them together for the first time in probably 15 years.

Mom, Uncle Ed and Aunt Terry

With record high temps, we hit the beach several times – walking the pier at Huntington, witnessing sea creatures brought in by the low tide at Crystal Cove and even laying out in our bathing suits one afternoon, getting good and sandy.

We had dinner at Downtown Disney, saw a fun doo-wop concert in Cerritos, brunched at the Orange circle, shopped the swap meet and visited the Ronald Reagan National Library in majestic Simi Valley. Pretty neat place – I highly recommend it.

Posing with a 9 1/2 foot tall section of the Berlin Wall

They're cray-cray adorbs. Totes McGoats.

We spent our last night at Ruby’s Diner in Huntington, sharing milkshakes and catching a glimpse of some record high waves.

The only bad part about having my family here is the deep void I feel when they leave. I’m counting the days till I see them again – maybe a brief visit in May, but definitely a trip home to Michigan in July. Only 159 days to go.

Title lyrics – Home, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes

See it grow

Among the oranges, the lemons, the grapefruits, the pecans and the macadamia nuts in our yard, there is also the passion fruit. This delicacy is different than the others. It grows on vines piled atop the awning outside our front door. When the fruit is ripe and heavy, it dangles at eye level, enticing us to reach up and pluck it from its stem. It is an unknown fruit to me, and the texture looks questionable, to be honest. It may be bitter inside. Or it could be sweet.

I think about the passion fruit a lot, as I pass by it every morning. It reminds me that I need to make a better effort to find my passion here. I need to try new things, or old things in new places.

I am by nature a passionate person. I latch on to people, activities, goals, causes, and I throw my whole self into them. Just ask Pat – he’ll tell you how worked up I can get about something as simple as chia seeds and how they are going to change the world.

I had a lot of passions before we moved. I was very passionate about my work and felt that what I was doing had an impact on people’s lives. I was passionate about finding a cure for Alzheimer’s disease and I was a dedicated volunteer and fundraiser. I was passionate about fitness and running and seeing how far I could push myself. I was passionate about cooking and clean eating. I was passionate about friends and family, and made sure I had FUN with them all the time.

I'm still passionate about all of these things! But in a new town, it’s much harder to actualize that passion. Things are unfamiliar. I don’t know anybody. There are different barriers to break down. Excuses, excuses! At the start of this new, exciting year, here are my goals for finding my passion again:

• Make friends. You know, just make some friends! Hardest thing ever. For Christmas, I gave Pat and myself a stocking stuffer: a membership to the "20s and 30s Social Club of Orange County." It sounds totally cheesy, but actually it’s just a group on meetup.com, which is a great website for getting out there. They organize really fun activities, like trampoline dodgeball, beach bonfires, karaoke nights and brewery tours. The group has a lot of members who are new to the area, so hopefully we’ll find some fun kids to hang with. We also joined the Missouri State University alumni association, and already they have planned a mixer for alumni in the Los Angeles area in January. That should be fun. Also good for Pat’s business networking.
• Volunteer. I had wanted to wait to reach out to the local chapter of the Alzheimer's Association until after the “walk season,” when they are busy with the Walk to End Alzheimer’s. The walk season was in the fall, so now I have no excuse. Time to get involved.
• Join a gym. This one may have to wait a little while, because those darn initiation fees are expensive. But I love being a part of a good gym, and group fitness classes are one of the best ways to make friends, in my experience. Yoga and weight-lifting and kick-boxing and tai chi and Zumba, here I come.
• Commit to running. It’s not as easy as stepping outside my front door like it used to be. Our neighborhood is too poorly lit and while it’s not unsafe, I just don’t feel at ease when I run here. So, I will have to make an effort to get to a trail or a treadmill, but that’s okay. It’s worth it.

The neat thing about having food growing outside your front door is that you are always aware of its progress. The tiny buds, the new leaves, the green rind slowly edging to purple – every stage happens before your eyes. I am making progress too. And soon, I’ll be brave enough to taste the passion fruit. Maybe I’ll even bake a pie.

Title lyrics – Lisztomania, Phoenix

May your days be ...

Title lyrics – White Christmas, The Drifters

Say, lend me a coat

Our former home in Missouri is digging out of at least a half foot of snow this week, and back in my Michigan hometown, it's down in the teens today.

Here in southern California, it's been in the 50s for the last week, with some mornings nearing the freezing point. Seriously not bad in comparison to the rest of the country. And yet this "arctic blast" is the talk of the town. People around me mention the cold weather at least five times a day. This is very unusual, I'm reminded often. It's never this cold here, they say.

This hilarious Jimmy Kimmel clip sums the hubbub up so much better than I ever could. Wind blowing the leaves, people ordering hot drinks – these are real news stories, folks. Nelson Mandela passed away? Yeah, but it's COLD.

Sadly we will not get to enjoy a cold, snowy Christmas at either of our hometowns this year. Flights are too expensive and I don't have a lot of vacation time saved up yet. But, my parents are talking about visiting in January and there is nothing in this world I look forward to more than a visit with my family!

I've told Pat that moving away from family is hard, but it makes your time with them so much more meaningful. I moved away 11 years ago and I cherish my family time exponentially more every year. My mom and I count down the days, and then the hours, till we see each other. Our goodbye hugs at the end of each visit get longer and longer – I think they're approaching 10 minutes now. A stronger appreciation for family comes not just with age, but distance too, and that is the silver lining in these winter clouds.

Title lyrics – Baby, It's Cold Outside
(Yes, I did just link to the Jessica Simpson/Nick Lachey version of this classic song and no, I will not apologize!)

Keep your head up

Sun rays, ocean waves, 75 degrees in November. Hikes in the mountains, bikes on the beach. It's time to finally cover some of the hard stuff.

Moving to a new place has been exciting, of course. We love it here. But our move was about more than just a change of scenery. It was about taking a leap for Pat's career and altering The Life Plan.

Pat has always wanted to write music. It was a passion that he turned away from more than once, but it always came back knocking. So a few years ago, we dipped our toes in the waters of business. We opened another bank account, invested in equipment and bought a house with space for a studio. It wasn't long before Pat knew he wanted to make a full-time career out of it. And the California dream was born.

This meant taking on some pretty big challenges, and putting other things on hold. The life in the suburbs and the good schools and the "kids before 30" pact we made when we got married sort of went out the window. Don't get me wrong, I was and continue to be completely supportive of this change in life course! In fact, I probably pushed for it more than Pat did, because he would never ask me to make that kind of sacrifice. (And I love him for that.) It would be a crime to waste such a passion and talent and I can't let that happen.

Already, this area is proving to offer more opportunity for him. Even saying you’re located in Los Angeles seems to earn you credibility in the industry. Pat is working nonstop on different projects. It will be a long time before the business supports us financially, but at least there is work to be done. And he’s having a blast.

[Side note: I always wanted to have a business anyway. In 7th grade, our English teacher asked us to take the letters of our names and choose words beginning with those letters to describe you. Well, jeez. Do you know how many E’s are in DEE DEE? Like a hundred or something. I ran out of E words pretty quickly, so I asked the best wordsmith I know, my Dad. He suggested “entrepreneur.” He explained the meaning and I immediately related to it. The babysitting club. The “any service you need done, call your neighborhood 12-year-old” business. The Crestview Carnival for kids on our street. The door-to-door sales of my homemade Rice Krispie treats and chocolate bars. And the meticulous management of every dollar I earned. Yup, I was an entrepreneur. I actually enjoy helping Pat with the business-y things he dislikes – keeping the money straight, the paperwork, managing risk. Fun, fun, fun.]

I’m not going to pretend that I don't long for that other life at the same time. Every kid I see melts my heart and turns me into a puddle. (And I work at a children’s hospital, so this happens a lot.) I want one, or two, or three. I want the house in the suburbs. I want the things that other people my age are starting to enjoy. These things cost money, but launching a business does too, and we just can’t do both at the same time. We made this move knowing full well that it would be a while until we were on our feet and ready to start the next chapter. It is SO hard to wait, and I'm struggling with that right now.

I need to remember that the current chapter of our lives is just as good in its own right. I need to be patient, savor the moment and be grateful for what I already have. Life is pretty darn good and I'm in no rush to get through it.

Title lyrics – Stubborn Love, Lumineers

Jelly Man Kelly

Meet Kelly.

Kelly is Pat’s brother, younger only by 17 months.

Kelly is good at everything: art, computer programming, web design, writing, teaching English, ukelele, singing, accordion, bike polo, fire-breathing, beard-growing.

Kelly is hilarious. He can really make me laugh. 

Me: I was so sad to miss the Bob Dylan concert because I had to have my appendix out.

Kelly: I guess your appendix wasn’t a Dylan fan.

Kelly is a world-traveler. He just spent more than a year living in China. Next year, he plans to move to Taiwan. And then I hear he’s tackling Europe. Hopefully Clark Griswold style.

We had the honor of hosting Kelly on his first visit back to the United States, and he had the honor of being our first house guest. He stayed with us for 10 days and I think we’re both going through some serious Kelly withdrawals.

I’d say we made good use of his time with us. We tried to give him a sampler of southern California, even though we’re still discovering the flavor of it ourselves.

Some of the many adventures:

• We walked the pier and drank milkshakes at Huntington Beach.

• Pat and Kelly took a train to Silver Lake, a small artsy area north of L.A.

• We hiked Griffith Park at sunset, with a view of the big city.

• We got a taste of Venice Beach, both by day and night. ... Interesting place. A crowded boardwalk with a lot of people touching you. Like the guy who wanted to give me his CD demo and he grabbed my hand and kissed it while chewing a toothpick and the toothpick stabbed me and I AM TOTALLY GETTING HEPATITIS. But really, a neat place.

• Pat and Kelly hiked at Crystal Cove.

• We biked 26 miles along the coast from Hermosa to Venice and back. This was by far one of the coolest things we've done in California. Although I still don't know how I was able to walk the next day.

[Now would be a good time to mention that most of the photos you see on this blog are taken by Pat, not me. I only wish I could take credit. He is phenomenal behind the camera and most of the time he doesn't even try.]

• We re-introduced Kelly to the joys of American breakfasts, Mexican food, smoothies and craft beer.

• We took in a concert at Santa Ana’s Constellation Room – Keller Williams and opening act The Melodic both rocked our socks off.

• We found The Pie Society, a secret speakeasy-style joint hidden behind a pizza restaurant in Costa Mesa.

Between the hikes, the bikes and the walks, we hit a lot of beaches. This is proof that visiting us will be the best vacation you'll ever take. "Visit the Jacobs and you'll see ALL the beaches." What travel agent can claim that?

Sad to see Kelly go, and his visit reminded us how good family time can feel. Homesickness is setting in a little and unfortunately not even sun and sand can cure it. Airfare around the holidays is looking to be WAY out of our budget, so we're trying to plan a trip home in the spring. In the meantime, we would love to hear from you all. If you're sending holiday cards, will you add us lonely souls to your list? Email/text/comment/Facebook me if you would like our address, and thanks for keeping us in your lives!

Title lyrics – Jelly Man Kelly, James Taylor

The skies I'm under

I know I will get a lot of rub-it-in-will-ya responses to this post, but I can't have a blog about California without talking about the weather. I apologize in advance to those of you currently wearing three pairs of socks or scraping ice off your car windows. I have been there before.

The sun, oh the sun. It's fall so our bodies are prepared for cooler temperatures. Every day, I expect it to be cold, and the sun catches me by surprise. It's the perfect kind of heat, too. A cozy, sleepy warmth like a caress on your skin. It's not uncomfortable or sticky or searing. I know that will change in the summer and I'll be begging for air conditioning. For now, I have an urge to lie down in every sunny patch of grass I see and take a nap.

Most restaurants here have some kind of outdoor seating because of the weather. A Mexican restaurant we tried the other night didn't even have a front wall. Even though it was a little chilly out, the combination of indoor heating and the outdoor breeze was delightful.

We have gone al fresco at home, too. Pat and I left our dining room table in Missouri and it was our plan to buy one after arriving. Let's be honest, we don't have kids and we like watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine while we eat, so we hadn't had a reason to go table shopping just yet.

But, we do hope to have guests from time to time, and I just can't bring myself to ask them to eat with us on the couch.

As we talked about buying a table, we thought, wouldn't it be nice to have outdoor dining, too? We couldn't afford two tables, so the decision was made to buy a patio set first. Only in California would you buy a patio table before a dining room table. We plan to eat outside as much as we can, and the social aspect of it is fun, too. What could be better than letting our guests share a cup of morning coffee, play a board game or eat dinner – all outside? We're so excited to make the most of our large porch and the temperate weather. No offense, Midwest, but it's nice to sit outside without contending with mosquitoes, poisonous spiders and 100% humidity.

The climate here also means lots of fresh produce. We can pick our own grapefruit, oranges, lemons and passion fruit at home. And the Orange farmers market has become our favorite Saturday morning tradition. Strawberries in November!

Outdoor activities are pretty different here, too, of course. One day a co-worker asked me what my weekend plans were. I told her that we hoped to go hiking, but I should check the weather first. She gave me the most quizzical look. Check the weather? But ... why? I forgot that you can pretty much count on good weather here, at least at this time of year. The chances of a storm or a cold front ruining our plans were slim.

We made our hiking debut at Crystal Cove. Due to a parking mishap, we had to walk about 3 miles round-trip to the actual trails, so we chose the shortest hike – about 3 miles through the mountainous backcountry of Laguna Beach. The first part was relatively flat, but around the halfway point, we found ourselves practically climbing straight up the side of a mountain. As we topped the crest at around 800 feet, we could see the blue Pacific waters glittering in the distance. I've never had a hiking experience like this before.

Afterward, we made our way to the Beachcomber Cafè, a very popular but quaint restaurant in Crystal Cove's historic district. The wait is almost always an hour or more, but the guests don't mind, because you can sit on the beach while you wait. We ordered a piña colada, kicked off our shoes and buried our tired feet in the sand. Then we stuffed ourselves with the most delicious lunch – me, a tuna salad melt with freshly caught tuna, and Pat, a Kobe beef cheeseburger with locally sourced bacon. Then we headed home and quite literally crashed into bed for a serious nap. Pat and I dubbed it The Best Day Since We Moved Here.

This weekend, Pat's brother Kelly returns to the United States after living in China for over a year, and his first stop is California! We're so excited to have our first house guest. More to come on our adventures with Kelly.

Title lyrics – Hopeless Wanderer, Mumford & Sons