The first full day of vacation is when the freedom of lack of schedule and muting of responsiblilities comes into focus. Our day was unprogrammed until a 7 pm bonfire on the beach. Vacation is a magical time when the appointments of the day are something to loook forward to.
That bonfire, by the way, was a metaphor for how blessed me and my group are to be living lives that allow us the luxury of paying someone to carry our chairs to the beach, make and maintain a fire, and clean up after us. Part of my vacation is trying to be a peace with people waiting on me. I know a lot of people get off on that…it just makes me nervous.
The bonfire was relaxing and sitting on a quiet beach (we’re outside “the season”) listening to the ocean was humbling. I’m not much of a sitter though. I could see the lights of “civilization” a few miles down the beach, which called. Still, I went on a group vacation because I like the people in the group. To split the difference of wanting to get up and run to a brew pub and wanting to sit on my ass for three hours with people I like, a glimpse of hope appeared. We could see a family wearing headlamps walking on the beach with a net and shovel clearly hunting marine life. This looked promising.
We found small net by the beach entry stairs, took our iphone flashlights to the waters edge and tried to find our own crab. This resulted in a lot of screaming and laughing but no crab. Luckily the family shared thier catch.
The closest I got to marine life was when we got back home and I found a bug in the hot tub.
Shirking my blogging duties I didn’t take pictures of the very nice farmer’s market or the breakfast make with the treasures foudn there. No pics of the shops, or food/drink consumed in town. #BadBlogging
Tomorrow I’ll do better. I have a swank kid-sized bike to tool around on. Funny story: The bike rental place brought us 7 adult-sized bikes, because there are 7 adults at the house. I haven’t ridden a bike in a long time so I got on my bike to test the “you never forget how to ride a bike” theory. I could ride fine, but I couldn’t stop. The bike was too big. When I put my foot down to aid the brake action, all I got was air. The motions I made to actually stop the bike impressed a family that was walking by. After considerable discussion about my inseam, I traded down for the baby bike. Adventure awaits.
Nothing Ever Happens on My Street 