Kina has always been a beach child, and while Laurea and I mostly love to watch the ocean and feel the movement of the wind, Kina’s love for the place is vigorous and muscular and messy. It has been a good few days with this beach, and we will be sad to go.

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It took basically the entire vacation, and we barely made it, but Kina has now enjoyed her annual California strawberry agua fresca, and all is well with the world again—at least in this small way.

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I asked Kina to write down what about yesterday felt the most important to her, and it was the candy—not the time our rental car broke down in traffic in the Financial District. We can all learn from this child.

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Amoeba Music is still around, and that makes Laurea feel like we are still in our twenties, but god bless Kina for reminding us of the insatiable hunger of time.

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Thank you to Jack, the Bolinas resident who in 1957 made a magical little path and built seven perfect bridges across the gully running down to Agate Beach. Thank you also to Cindy and Giorgio, for Kina’s time—and ours—on the mountain.

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Tito Giorgio’s green beans and green tractor make a lifelong impression on the publisher today.

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Sorry late on the posting. Admiring the deer.

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The scratches were worth it, says the publisher.

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My dad used to take me in runs around the block in Cambridge as a little kid, and now my own kid is out running with me, and it really is mind boggling and wonderful and invigorating to be alive.

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I’ve been saying this to Kina a lot, when she’s scared or frustrated or ashamed, and it really calms her down. It caught me by surprise to hear her say it to me when I noticed that her pedals on bike were hitting the ground on our ride. Maybe nothing to be scared about. Maybe keep riding.

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Every once in a while, I discover something about Kina and me that seems obvious to each of us in ways that actually highlight little inheritances we share. Today, that is orange.

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Kina agreed with the owners of this house that she would feed the strays this week, and she has now demonstrated her skill at delegation by making me scoop wet cat slop out of a can, which is totally convincing me that it would be a great idea to adopt a cat, as she has long demanded.

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Kina has become a true admirer of the garden outside the house we rent when we come to the East Bay. It’s not just because of the strawberries, either. She seems to appreciate the magic of all-encompassing vegetation in ways that I can’t quite get my head around. Then again, most of the plants are nearly as tall as she is—she can literally be lost in the weeds, which seems quite nice as a vacation hobby.

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She got the chocolate chip cookie as a gift from the chef of the hotel restaurant after she sent him a note thanking him for feeding her so well. She signed it, “Gratefully, Kina”. She really is the mayor.

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Clap-out for fourth grade was predictably a little weepy today. Good teachers, kind humans, growing hearts. I remember this feeling—it really is the age at which you’re neither too young nor too old, and it passes like that. Congratulations to our publisher for becoming the oldest grade in school.

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Protect this child’s rectangle cheese.

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Kina is enjoying this week at school and I am definitely that parent who is like “but what about the virtues of learning?!”

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At this point, I think I just like painting waves.

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There are many stories in this city, but no fairy tales.

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I have really worn out the whole “punishment must fit the crime” angle with Kina as a response to when she whirls up and slaps me on the lower back or chest. Now that she’s going through a growth spurt, the clarity around “no unprovoked violence” is setting in for both of us. Yes, I’m annoying; we must find another way!!!

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