Good morning, fine friends. I really mean that. It is a good morning. Isn't that fantastic?!
It started out rough. I pulled a Hatta and realized 10 minutes into the drive I had left my phone at home. I contemplated taking one for the team and doing without for a few days. That could be fun, right? I hear how wonderful and freeing it is to disconnect and genuinely be present in your life for a change. Then it dawned on me, whoever said that was a moron. I needed my phone now more than ever. I quickly had us turned around and headed back home. Conveniently, Alice began complaining of a stomach ache. She wanted to poop. A 20 minute pit stop, complete with phrases like, "I can't keep pushing. The poop needs to catch its breath," and we were on our way again.
The drive turned out exactly how I expected. Alice was tired and refused to sleep. I was accused of fondling my leather wrapped steering wheel. We had to stop more times than I can bring myself to admit making the drive at least 30 minutes longer than necessary...not including my cellphone screw up. Eventually we arrived at the beach, mostly unscathed.
I shit you not, Hatta had a Summer Shandy in my hand within 3 minutes of walking in the front door. He's a standup guy like that. From that moment on, life was good. We quickly had beers in a cooler, swimsuits donned, and our bodies on the boat headed to the bay.
Something happens to me every time I'm on a boat. I'm reminded this is the one place I feel at home. I suppose it's the way some people feel when they eat a familiar food or visit a town from a past life, transported back to the comfort of your childhood. With my mother no longer alive, many of those old comforts trigger sad feelings for me. Except the boat. There's something about being on the water, the salt air blowing through my hair that makes me feel my childhood. Driving through the inlet, remembering all the times we would come to this spot to greet my father, a waterman, as he returned home after a week long trip. We would wave and jump up and down, he would sound the horn, knowing we would finally get to see each other again.
So, yeah, I was enjoying myself. We spent a few hours anchored at what turned out to be our very own private beach. I spent a few hours doing absolutely nothing and it was awesome. I drank. I sunbathed. I watched my daughter from a distance. I willingly played beer wench for Hatta as he fished. I would have breathtaking pictures to post for you...but I forgot my phone, again.