Posted by: rocketbride | August 1, 2012


Maggie’s on the floor, playing with an empty Birkenstock box. She’s banging the sides and singing to me. Every few minutes she bats it off her lap and I get to retrieve it for her, which earns a dazzling 2-tooth smile. It’s pretty great.

Since this won’t hold her for very long, I’ll try to be brief. Today was our last day at the Beach House, and much of it was consumed in the attempt to restore it to its pristine condition. We did at least a half-dozen loads of laundry, washed dishes constantly, swept, scrubbed, shuttered and generally drove each other crazy by the end of it. I was more tense than usual because I had a chance to see Dirk at a nearby beach, but only if we could agree on the timing. At one point I was so frustrated that I was ready to march out of the house and let everyone have lunch without me, if it meant that I didn’t have to negotiate for more than a half hour visit before rushing home. There’s only so many times you can be told there’s no time to stop, especially when it’s seven and a half hours until we have to be anywhere other than that porch.

Eventually cooler heads prevailed, and we all ended up meeting Dirk on Beach 1. (There was a slow motion run on the beach, but sadly no “Dance Me to the End of Love“.) My dad and Mason kept Maggie company on the shore while the other adults shepherded the boys, who were in love with the waves. Dirk & I talked a mile a minute while we bodysurfed with them, got several snootsful of water and sometimes lost our Tilleys as a wave swept over our heads. It was awesome.

Mom: [to Dirk] “I haven’t seen you since the wedding. We got a whole year off.”

Me: “That’s one year plus a day. That’s a prison sentence.”

Going home crammed in my parents’ back seat was less awesome, but at least I saved Maggie the two hours of extra driving Mason had to do to get Sage home. There was a miscommunication once they left, and I never was picked up for the baseball game, so I managed to miss the only win of the season. No run, no baseball, no knitting: what a waste of a Wednesday night. Good thing there’s another whole month of this summer to go.


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