sunkissed

after a morning at the beach and afternoon mini golfing (i beat my husband for the first time) and crabbing (we caught a blue claw!), we headed home with rosy cheeks and sand still in our shoes.

it was a hot day, and as we drove further and further away from the island, the skies darkened and soon we were beneath an endless cloud.  not long after we had driven through the city, we were hit by a heavy rainstorm.  the sun was nearly forgotten by the time we arrived home.

except that it was evident on our skin.  it seems that we don't ever notice how tan (or burned) we are until we're out of the sun.  and we, having soaked up an excess of vitamin D for the day, were drowsy and sluggish, barely unpacked before we headed to bed.

goodnight, sun.. until we meet again tomorrow.

hidden agenda

waking up to no agenda ends up being a bit like this:

breakfast on the patio; collecting shells on the beach and the inception of "shell face off"; lunch with the group; crabbing for the first time, and even catching a few; sunset at the bay; seafood and steak dinner outside; night stroll on the beach; birthday celebration with both laughter and tears; staying up late inventing ridiculous card games.

i kind of like this type of schedule.

tradition

we're on the road again, the dotted lines and tail lights guiding us to the same destination as the year before it.  the smell of the ocean mixed with sand is already beckoning through the darkness, and i can almost feel the warm breeze against my face, knowing that it will be warm if i were to open the window, even at this time of night.

the mile markers count up, and we have reached ocean county.  it won't be long now before we cross the bridge to the island, the familiar strip of lights and people and action, separated by 30 some-odd stoplights as we haltingly make it to the old beach house.  there, we have the promise of a dreamy slumber, to be awakened by the rustling and aroma of life in the morning -- breakfast on the stove, chairs pulled to the table, forks on their respective plates, the TV bellowing some kind of sport.  laughter and hugs, pleasantries exchanged, plans for the day. 

there, we have the promise of family.

exit zero

cape may is exit 0 off the garden state parkway.  for me, it is alittle like being... nowhere.  the feel is relaxed and comfortable, even in the middle of town and despite the crowds during the peak of summer.

we were lucky enough to be down here on a terrific, sunny day, spending the leisurely hours with friends.  we took a walk to the beach, a trip to the dock to watch people crabbing (first time for me) and painting, a stroll into town for some window shopping and an ice cream cone.  it was a nice retreat, although i would have liked to stay longer than i could.

for someone that's not a beach person, i've sure found myself there alot this year!

beach bummed

my parents were set on taking us to the beach today, although we weren't really up for it.  but we obediently packed ourselves in the van for a 50-minute car ride from their house.  upon arrival, we were greeted by an overcast sky, the mist so enveloping it was like standing in a massive gray cloud.  my parents methodically unpacked the beach chairs and started for the sand while my sister and i (and our husbands) tentatively followed, not in much of a mood to be where we were but appeasing them nonetheless.  as we made our way toward the water, droplets of rain started falling.  this didn't discourage either of my parents though.  they were jovial and laughing, all of us kids wondering how they could be having such a great time in such miserable weather.  as soon as we put our chairs down, they headed to the waves hand in hand, dipping their feet in the ocean.  mere minutes later, it started raining harder and the lifeguards kicked us off the beach.  we had probably been there no more than 10 minutes before having to head back home, since there wasn't much to do in a shore town in the rain.

during the car ride home, the sky dried up and the sun even poked through.  we joked about how funny it was that we traveled nearly an hour each way to visit the beach for about 5 minutes.  it was an event so typical of my parents, and we had agreed to tag along since we were doing it for them.

what i've realized as i'm writing this is that they were in fact doing it for us; planning this day trip to the beach, putting on a happy face once we got there, despite the crappy weather.  making our day enjoyable and memorable.

and i've also decided that by having just a glimpse of how happy it made them to have us there together, i would go to the beach with them on a rainy day any day.