The plans changed at the last minute, and instead of my taking tons of luggage and driving alone, I wound up taking two twelve-year-old (almost thirteen!) girls, my luggage, and whatever else we could fit in the car.
We had a pleasant trip. Mapquest directions were fine, and we stayed mostly on the blue highways and so avoided most of the traffic. But when we finally reached the rental house, the same thought crossed all of our minds as we saw the exterior of the house: If it’s as crappy inside as it is out, we’ve been totally ripped off.
Luckily, it isn’t, and we have named the house The Not-Quite-Crap Shack. It’s decent inside, and it has two porches/decks. One is screened in, the other is near the top of the roof and has a great breeze.
We got here around 5:30, but I made the girls wait until Heidi got here before we went to the beach. It’s warm enough to swim until dark, which is nearly what they did. But it was high tide, and a strong one, so I made them come out long before they were ready.
Right now, I am surrounded by dogs, one of which will earn the right to be beddog (and it will so not be the Great Dane, who outweighs me and is taller than me by far). Maybe I’ll put up some pictures of the dogs. Or maybe not. Tink (the Dane) is currently drooling from both sides of her mouth. Gross. Disgusting dog. That’s one reason I prefer cats. Very little drooling.
Anyway, off to bed. I will be contributing to the SNN podcast this week, but I don’t think I’ll be doing much news-blogging.
The water is too inviting, and the beach is calling my name. Oh, and I can see the stars. No light pollution.
Tomorrow night, Heidi and I intend to have our nightcap while sitting outside and watching the stars. Now that’s relaxation.
Relax. Don’t think about the world. Dogblog or beachblog if you want to give us free ice cream. Keep an eye out for what washes ashore. Let the stress evaporate from you. We can endure Meryl Withdrawal Symptoms if necessary. It’s good for addicts to kick the habit now and then. We can read Snoopy’s posts for our glimpses of the real world (a world perhaps a bit realer than we would like it to be).