The subject of the sermon was a touchy one, but the pastor handled it in a most magnificent way, so that when I left the church Sunday morning, I easily said to my family, “That was the best sermon on giving I have ever heard.” Pastor Larson of The Anchor Church in San Diego was he who preached this stirring, moving, sermon. It was powerful!
We hurried home, changed our clothes and headed over to the J Street Marina, where nearby was the park in which Michael and Melina have their RV placed. There, in a grassy park adjacent to the Chula Vista Bay we ate our lunch. It was memorable and scrumptious. Andrew’s family had been the beneficiary of a friend’s successful fishing trip to Mexico, and we all shared in the bounty; thick tuna steaks. Fresh tuna is so different from that found in a can, it is hard to believe it is the same thing. Grilled quickly, 4 minutes on each side, slightly crusty on the outside, but still pink in the middle, the taste is more akin to steak than to fish. If you ever are asked to indulge in such a pleasure, don’t pass the chance. Absolutely outstanding; a rare treat.
Everyone had pitched in for the meal, so that together we had appetizers of smoked salmon, to be placed squarely on a thick potato chip, then dolloped with sour cream and a smear of dill, grilled fresh asparagus, pasta salad, fresh pesto for the tuna, green salad with raspberry vinaigrette, cheesy potatoes, crunchy seedless grapes, cheese bread, french bread set beside a pot of whipped butter, and cold watermelon. Spectacular.
A walk on the pier was next, where we talked with would-be-fishermen, “would-be-fishermen” only, for it seemed few if any were catching fish. The marine layer was thick in places, and in the distance could be seen the city skyline and the splendid stretch of Coronado Bridge. It was cold and I had left my jacket in the car, so before we got too far, Andrew was sweet enough to wind up one of the skateboards and go get it for me. Cole hit a crack in the walkway with his skateboard, and for a few minutes lay moaning where he had landed, but Uncle Mike and Andrew tended him, and soon he was up skating away.
Shortly after we returned to our grassy picnic area, two rare football teams formed, consisting of five members–two men and three boys. Mike, Brady and Cole were stacked against Andrew and Gentry. We yelled and cheered, we spectators growing colder by the minute, but the football stars were sweating and peeling away clothes. “A tie!” Andrew judged at the closing quarter…and so the party was over. We gathered the grill, ice-chests, blankets, cameras, chairs, food, skateboards…and all the people, happily making our way to cars and motor home.
Little Ella had been sick through the night, and was not her exuberant self during the picnic day, but she was a good sport, never whining, but just sitting and looking about.
Tomorrow Mike and Melina would return to Lake Havasu and Jerry and I would make the trek up to Crestline. The birthday week was over.