A typical summer morning at Pismo Beach, with the sea fog hugging the shore, and thinning out overhead as it prepares to burn off in the afternoon sun. Pismo pier is barely visible in the distance.
Down below our motel, the waves are gently rolling in, and people are walking the beach, ans some are surfing.
Daughter-in-law Kelly, and grandson Graham. He just woke up from a post feeding nap, and is a little suspicious of all the relatives who want to pick him up and hold him.
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