Not Going In
It is so early here that it's not blazing hot yet. Sam and the child had to get up VERY early in order to go fishing down at one of the last few fishing piers on the East Coast. They are supposed to come home with bunches of fish, which we're then going to eat tonight.
But if they don't, it's no matter, cause my brother-in-law has been storing up fish in the freezer from other earlier fishing trips. So we're covered.
Also, because I do not understand the mechanics of Deep Frying, he's bring some giant contraption over here (we're across the street), and is going to teach me how to deep fry fish. And, I hope, make hush puppies. Because the fried fish is an exquisite and excellent thing, but the hush puppies are actually where it's at.
I've begun to wonder if I can perhaps get through this entire vacation without ever putting my bathing suit on and going in the water. Let's see. It's Thursday, and I've been here since Sunday, and I'm leaving on Sunday, which is let's see three or four days from now depending on how you count it -- yeah. I think I could do it.
But I dunno. I might feel SO GUILTY about going to the sacred happy beach and never truly going into the ocean so as to experience the glory that is the vast body of water from which we all take our sustenance blah blah blah that maybe it's best if I drag myself on over and go in the damn thing so as not to entirely miss the experience.
Sure do like the porch, though. And I do go down to the water occasionally, to watch the child perform heart-stopping acts of fearlessness in the water, or to walk along the beach and count the pelicans flying over (record this year: 63), so it's not like I'm totally ignoring it.
I'm done with the first two volumes of Proust, and have moved on to Cervantes. I've got Tobias Smollett's translation of Don Quixote, which is a major treat. It's not the authoritative version, but nobody's going to be quizzing me on this or forcing me to write conference papers, so I'm free to enjoy myself, and this way I've got Cervantes and Smollett all at once, and a good thing it is, too.
So. Fish and fish fry tonight. And then we've got to figure out when we're going to the Serpentarium, which is our all time family favorite place to go. Beautiful snakes, and if you sit through the entertaining Display of Snakes, Both Poisonous and Non (it's the same every year, but we don't care), one is allowed to Hold a Big Snake, and that is the child's favorite part.
One last thing for the day -- I have heard many people say this, and I want to concur. It is true. Being a grandparent kicks butt. I'm here at the beach, and my child, being now 8, requires not so much constant handling as my grandchildren, who are Small. So the kids are doing what I was doing 3 or 4 years ago, which is constant parenting, and I am not. But occasionally little small people come up to me and hug me for no reason at all and say, "I love you, Gramma Anne."
Therefore they have Alice Starmore sweaters. (One's got "Elephants": the other has "Oriental Flowers." The third is not talking yet. The minute he starts that "Gramma Anne" thing, he's getting "Fish and Anchors.")
I even offer to baby sit sometimes. What the hell.
But none of that Watching People Nearly Drown In The Ocean stuff. I'm old. My heart can't take it.
But if they don't, it's no matter, cause my brother-in-law has been storing up fish in the freezer from other earlier fishing trips. So we're covered.
Also, because I do not understand the mechanics of Deep Frying, he's bring some giant contraption over here (we're across the street), and is going to teach me how to deep fry fish. And, I hope, make hush puppies. Because the fried fish is an exquisite and excellent thing, but the hush puppies are actually where it's at.
I've begun to wonder if I can perhaps get through this entire vacation without ever putting my bathing suit on and going in the water. Let's see. It's Thursday, and I've been here since Sunday, and I'm leaving on Sunday, which is let's see three or four days from now depending on how you count it -- yeah. I think I could do it.
But I dunno. I might feel SO GUILTY about going to the sacred happy beach and never truly going into the ocean so as to experience the glory that is the vast body of water from which we all take our sustenance blah blah blah that maybe it's best if I drag myself on over and go in the damn thing so as not to entirely miss the experience.
Sure do like the porch, though. And I do go down to the water occasionally, to watch the child perform heart-stopping acts of fearlessness in the water, or to walk along the beach and count the pelicans flying over (record this year: 63), so it's not like I'm totally ignoring it.
I'm done with the first two volumes of Proust, and have moved on to Cervantes. I've got Tobias Smollett's translation of Don Quixote, which is a major treat. It's not the authoritative version, but nobody's going to be quizzing me on this or forcing me to write conference papers, so I'm free to enjoy myself, and this way I've got Cervantes and Smollett all at once, and a good thing it is, too.
So. Fish and fish fry tonight. And then we've got to figure out when we're going to the Serpentarium, which is our all time family favorite place to go. Beautiful snakes, and if you sit through the entertaining Display of Snakes, Both Poisonous and Non (it's the same every year, but we don't care), one is allowed to Hold a Big Snake, and that is the child's favorite part.
One last thing for the day -- I have heard many people say this, and I want to concur. It is true. Being a grandparent kicks butt. I'm here at the beach, and my child, being now 8, requires not so much constant handling as my grandchildren, who are Small. So the kids are doing what I was doing 3 or 4 years ago, which is constant parenting, and I am not. But occasionally little small people come up to me and hug me for no reason at all and say, "I love you, Gramma Anne."
Therefore they have Alice Starmore sweaters. (One's got "Elephants": the other has "Oriental Flowers." The third is not talking yet. The minute he starts that "Gramma Anne" thing, he's getting "Fish and Anchors.")
I even offer to baby sit sometimes. What the hell.
But none of that Watching People Nearly Drown In The Ocean stuff. I'm old. My heart can't take it.
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