Monterey Bay | California

Because this morning's post was so light and fluffy, I thought I'd bring it back down and talk about something really, really important:

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Chris' Whale Watching | Monterey Bay, California

A couple of weeks ago, when I was in New York, Erin and I were walking down the street after lunch and a pigeon landed on my head.

Pigeons do not typically land on people's heads. And despite the fact that I screamed like the little girl in The Ring had just come walking out of my television screen during JoJo's one-on-one date, once we - and the other people on the block who had borne witness to my attack-by-bird - recovered, Erin said, "I'm not even surprised. Of COURSE a pigeon just landed on your head." And honestly, I wasn't surprised either.

Here is a piece of string. I want to wear it.

See that string? If I could get away with wearing that and nothing else for the remainder of the week, that would be great.

My phone says that it is 102F outside, and our air conditioning just broke. (I mean, of course it did. Because that's how life works.) It is so hot that when we sat down for dinner last night (at 6:30PM, which is not an hour during which one typically melts), the silverware that had been sitting on the table for all of ten minutes was too hot to pick up.

Jack Rose | Los Gatos, California

Emu Australia Boots | Stripes Boutique Dress

My parents came into town for Memorial Day Weekend so we could all be together on my 35th birthday, and our weekend was a mix of day trips to fun places with the kids, hanging by the pool, and taking care of stuff around the house (wildly exciting projects like fixing closet door tracks and replacing fluorescents; all things that my dad cares about and I care much less about but do anyway when he's there because he makes me and because whining doesn't work on my father).

Carmel-by-the-Sea, California | Memorial Day Weekend

My son's middle name, Henry, comes from his grandfather. He was a veteran of the second World War, and a union organizer and civil rights worker during the McCarthy era (and beyond). I think about my grandpa a lot; he was a thoughtful, passionate, and mostly very kind man. He was the type of person who didn't just say he believed in things; he fought for them, and made sacrifices for them. I think about him even more lately: I picture him sitting at his dining room table, eating a mango and watching the news. He'd be so disappointed - so saddened - by what's happening in our country right now.

The point of today, of course, is to remember the thousands and thousands of men and women who have given their lives in an effort to help make our country what it is. It's a day to think about our country's past, and honor those who have helped to shape it, but I think that it's also a day when we should think about its future - because that's what all those countless servicemen and women were fighting for.