It is an unbelievably beautiful day here at the beach. 70 degrees and not a cloud in the sky:
…especially when compared to two days ago, when I worried more than a little bit that we were all about to be blown or washed off our foundations:
The tide is coming in, sparkling in the sun. I’m reading a fascinating book about the topographical and architectural impact of the Reformation in Britain and Ireland. There are herons and hummingbirds and bees and dragonflies. And it feels more like July than the end of September. I do wish Andrew and some of my family were here to enjoy it with me, but such is life.
The only problem, really, is that my rations are running quite dangerously low. Basically all that’s left in the fridge now is cheese and low fat vanilla yogurt (wtf?). And while both of those can be components of meals, neither will suffice in itself. I also have libations aplenty: wine, scotch, bourbon, gin, vodka and Pimms (the last of which I’m currently enjoying at the picnic table in front of the cabin).
I have a rental car (which, incidentally, I haven’t driven since Saturday), but it’s so beautiful out right now that I really don’t want to drive into town. So I will avoid it until the sun dips behind one of the islands bluffs (or until I get desperately hungry).
Going back to work on Monday is going to be very difficult. But at least I won’t be jet lagged.
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