Thursday, July 26, 2012

Life's a beach (sorry)

So I finally got our town beach sticker yesterday, after signing away my parental rights to any future children, donating all the blood in my body, and saying Rumpelstiltskin three times. Really, tho -- you need a copy of my lease?! And car registration info?! And my child's birth date?! What about, say, a piece of mail and a handshake?

However, it's 35 dolla for the sticker and 30 dolla per day without, so I tap danced for it.

Then we went to the beach and she was so beside herself with manic glee, I felt guilty for taking the two weeks to get it. Of course, she's currently obsessed with singlehandedly removing every piece of seaweed from the ocean, so... she's probably just upset I cut into her work hours.

It's fun having an ocean (or sound) beach that is actually swimmable. I'm used to standing up to my ankles, shivering numbly, and then running back to the burning hot sand -- and rinse repeat rinse. Here, Harps "swims" up to her armpits and I've even been known to duck under. (When she's not looking, obviously. Going under is not permitted behavior.)

I used to love being at the beach all day, but now I feel like my skin is getting crunchy under the disappearing ozone and the sand, the sand, the sand in my grapes! I think 1-2 hours is a nice little visit before we strip off the suits and run around in oversize tshirts under the comfort of a roof. Hence, the beach sticker; we can come and go and come and go and my wallet isn't mad. (But my future kids might be.)


  1. You know you want to buy a house ...

  2. Anonymous2:04 PM

    Since when does Clay want to buy houses? I thought he was the king of eternal renting for financial reasons?

  3. low rates are too tempting.


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