No Place Like the Beach House

I am not one of those people who winds down easily and naturally after a vacation, looking forward to home and my own bed; on the contrary, I feel sad when our trips draw to a close and we must pack up our things and head back to the real world.

I love being away from e-mail, appointments, running around, and my desk of bill piles, computers, and calendars.

In particular, I enjoy spending time here at my parent’s beach house where the living is slow, quiet, and simple. We are a short walk through the dunes to the Pacific ocean where we can play on a huge, isolated, wondrous stretch of beach. (Yesterday, someone’s commercial crab buoy washed ashore as the kids built sand castles!) At night, we bunker in and fall peacefully asleep without worry or anxiety. Cell coverage is blissfully sporadic and Internet access dicey.

I tease George all the time and tell him we should move here to the coast. In fact, there’s a house for sale right in front of us. He can easily homeport our boat at one of the commercial harbors, I can open a little Jazzercise studio, and the kids can go to school.

What’s not to like about that plan?

Plenty, according to G. So, I’m spending our last couple of days here not thinking about the obligations, stacks of e-mails, the start of the school year and impending start of crab season that await us at home. I’m going to finish reading my book (my second since we arrived!) and enjoy each second we have left together in our little family hideaway.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for providing such a place for us all to truly get away all these years!








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