WHILE WE WERE IN SAN FRAN, WE WENT TO SOME SHOPS that were inside of one of the first piers.

I didn’t know what to expect, but after walking in I started looking for platform 9 3/4ths.

I loved all the fresh fruits and flowers they had out.

There was also a lot of food shops that sold breads, cheeses and meats.

Although there was one place I was definitely going to steer clear of.

Can’t read it?

Here’s a closer view.

TASTY SALTED PIG PARTS!?

No thanks.

I think I’ll avoid this fungi shop too.

Although, there were shops that had things I was interested in.

REMEMBER THAT TIME THAT I WENT ON A TRIP and promised to blog about it?

Good times.

Here’s ten random photos from a trip to the Piers.

I really don’t have much to say about these photos.

Just kidding.

That was really nine.

All I really need to know is how many photos do you guys want to see? Because I’m a photo freak. I’ll post them all if you let me. Every single last one. And then I’ll delve into the rodeo photos I never posted, and the pictures of Kevin and I dating that you haven’t seen, and I’ll probably post a few from all the ones I hand scanned in from my mom’s old albums.

So yea.

If you hate photos, just leave for a few weeks. I’ll be back to posting about funny stories just as soon as I get this out of my system.

DISCLAIMER: I’m not exactly sure what a looking glass is. It just sounded cool.

DISCLAIMER NUMBER TWO: This post will be mushy.

When we were at the Golden Gate Bridge, there was this contraption.

You’ve seen them before – pay them a quarter and they’ll magnify anything you point them at.

Kiersten wanted to look in one, so Steve picked her up.

And I couldn’t help but think, what a great dad he is.

That’s something I always wondered about when I’d think about getting married someday. What would my future husband be like as a father? There are lots of different styles of daddies – the cautious types, the carefree types, the “no I will not change that diaper” types. All are good, but would the man I choose have the same standards as I do about raising children? What types of things would he teach them? Would he take our children on trips and show them the world? Would he help me teach them right from wrong? Would he see the importance of family dinner, but also see the joy in a late night ice cream run? Would he be open to letting the kids have pets so they can learn responsibility and accountability for the care and well being of something else and so they can experience what it feels like for mans best friend to greet you at the door after school?

Granted, I know parenting is probably a lot more than when I have kids, I’m going to raise them like this or I’d never let my kid do that.

From what I hear it’s a lot of trial and error, as well as sweat, blood, tears, and vomit.

Vomit being reason number 127 why we’re waiting to have children. . .lest you be saying we are baby hungry. Cleaning up someone elses’ bodily fluids all day just doesn’t appeal to me.

I know parenting isn’t easy, but I believe it’s a lot easier when you have a good foundation to build upon. I wanted someone who had that to bring to the table. Kevin definitely had that. His parents and siblings are all great parents. But, just as with pets, the only way you really know how you feel about children is to be around them.

When I met Kevin, the only niece or nephew he had was Kiersten. He hadn’t really been around any other kids.

He’d never held a newborn or played games with a toddler.

And I think (sorry Kevin) that he was slightly scared of kids. He didn’t know what to do around them. And I understand that. Kids are scary. The little ones have soft spots and squishy bodies. And their heads flop around if you don’t hold them. And they cry. And the older kids squirm when you hold them, and run around screaming like banshees because you won’t give them candy. (Or Cheetos).

(That reference was for you Ashley).

But then he started hanging around me, and I dragged him to the far, far away land of Mapleton to meet my sister, and what do you know, right off the bat ASPEN TRIES TO KISS HIM.

Right there, sitting on the couch on my lap, she leans over, tilts her head, closes her eyes and puckers.

Not just once, but THREE TIMES.

And I thought, well great, he probably just went from scared to horrified. But I was wrong. He went from scared to realizing that kids don’t bite (they kiss!) and that they are fun to be around.

Now he’s held not one, but three different newborns. He’s fed them bottles, and burped, and changed outfits.

And he’s played Candyland with Kiersten and jumped on the tramp with Aspen.

And now he’s the first to say, “Let’s go visit Maddy!” or “James!” or “Saige!”.

So when we were in San Fran and Kiersten wanted a better view?

Uncle Kevin swept her right up.

I’m so grateful I’m marrying him. He is going to be such an amazing father some day.

In five years.

Maybe six, if I get puked on by the newborns before then.

I WASN’T SURE HOW I’D FEEL about the Golden Gate Bridge. This could have branched from Grams’ stories about covering her face with a map when they drove over it because it scared her so bad.

I wasn’t scared, I was just. . .disinterested.

Sure, it’s cool.

Sure, it’s massive.

Sure, it’s one of the top – if not the most identifiable symbol of San Francisco.

Sure, it’s the second largest suspension bridge in the world.

But I’m not a history buff. All I really knew about it before we went was that it’s called the “Golden Gate Bridge” and that it’s not golden at all – it’s red.

We found out it’s called the Golden Gate not for the gold rush, but for the area where the San Francisco Bay meets the Pacific Ocean.

And you know what?

I had my doubts (or just disinterest. . .) but the bridge turned out to be pretty darn sweet.

If I do say so myself.

It is a symbol of strength, ingenuity, and the minds determination. It is proof that we can span the gaps that may challenge us and we can work together to build bigger and greater things. I am glad – honored really – that I was able to visit one of our great American symbols in my lifetime.

I’VE BEEN BACK FROM MY TRIP FOR FOUR DAYS NOW PEOPLE. Let’s do this.

We’ll start my San Fran trip off with Muir Woods (if that doesn’t sound familiar, just think “Redwoods”.)

(And if that doesn’t ring a bell just think, “really big trees”).

I’ll try to do these posts in order but lets be honest, I didn’t even remember which day of the week it was today when I woke up, so don’t count on anything.

Recap: Wednesday night after work we drove to Winnemucca, Nevada.

Thursday morning I drove from Winnemucca, Nevada to San Francisco, California.

Fine I’ll be truthful. I only drove to San Bruno, California – the town that is ten miles but TWO HOURS from San Francisco. Traffic, I hate you. Kevin and I got there first so we wandered around a dirty mall with horrible food while we waited for everyone to arrive. Kevin’s parents, his brother Steve and sister-in-law Marcee had tickets to Wicked for Thursday night so Kevin and I went and found an Outback Steakhouse and then swam in the hotel pool.

(Look. This is my short-term memory loss coming back to me! Or would that be my memory that temporarily lost short-term? I think I’m completely misusing that entire phrase).

Friday morning we all woke up early and drove out to Muir Woods. (The Redwoods or “really big trees”).

Now I don’t know about you, but I hear about the redwoods and think, “yea so what, it’s trees. Really tall trees, sure, but we have really tall mountains around here with some Aspen trees and lots of Pines. . .I’m all for greenery but I’ve seen tall trees before”.

People.

Let me just tell you, you have NOT seen tall trees until you’ve been to Muir Woods.

That sucker in the back was 20 stories tall. When I read that all I could think about was if they were including the 13th floor in that measurement, because we all know the 13th floor is bad luck and if they skipped it that would technically make it only 19 stories tall.

They had mini gardens everywhere giving you information on the plants.

We messed around in the gift shop while we waited for his family to arrive.

And they came, with these cuties in tow.

Muir Woods?

Watch out.

Aubrey’s on the loose.

And she brought along these people.

I love talking about myself in the third person.

Now, as Kiersten said, “Onward!”

This is one tree. It took me three shots to get the entire picture.

When we were little, our dad, who was busy cutting down a tree in our yard, told us you could tell the age of a tree by counting the number of rings it had. I gave up counting around number 25.

Due to the sheer size of the subject matter, I alternated between taking photos of trees:

And of people:

(Kevin’s Dad, Sherman).

(From left to right: Marcee, Steve, Kiersten).

(Lindsay).

(Lindsay and Jon).

Although I must admit, I made Kevin do the people photography for the most part, since I’m used to having family that screeches at me when I whip out the camera. And I left his mom out of most of the shots I took on the trip because it was her birthday. She did, however, wind up in a family photo or two.

I don’t think anyone was ready that time. Let’s try again.

Much better, other than the fact that Steve is missing.

Random photos:

I saved the best picture for last.

Just kidding reader!

That’s either a bad photo, or you have a bad mind. (Someone, it may or may not have been me, chuckled when I saw that tree though. Oh hush. You know you just did too.)

Here is the real best photo.

Because you can’t go to Muir Woods and not be a tree hugger.