Good friends. The best weather you can imagine. A dog who loves the ocean. Spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread. Hot dogs and iced tea. Chocolate chip banana muffins. Crackers with cream cheese and tiny tomato halves.
Fishing buddies. Mussel bait. Time. My son declines. He says, "I'm not into patience." Cracks shells instead. A woman who grew up doing this can't imagine why you'd order mussels in a restaurant. "I just think of the smell," she says.
The boys turn over barnacle-covered rocks to search for little burgundy crabs.
On the way to West Beach we find a three inch long bug. Everyone keeps asking, "Is it real?"
Tiny tug boats carry sawdust. Where does it come from? Where does it go? What is it for? Should I lay on my right side or left? More suntan lotion anyone? Should I cross my right foot over my left?
Crossbows and mean boastful boys. "Do you
own your cabin? We do. Whaddyou mean you don't have a DS? That's so
gay. I forbid my son to play with them, wishing I could protect him from this kind of boy all his life.
Breakfast in the cabin with milk and plenty of sunlight.
The long trip home to hot-tempered Vancouver. Wish we were there, but the memories give us something to look forward to for next summer. Summer as it should be.
Good friends. The best weather you can imagine. A dog who loves the ocean. Spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread. Hot dogs and iced tea. Chocolate chip banana muffins. Crackers with cream cheese and tiny tomato halves.
Fishing buddies. Mussel bait. Time. My son declines. He says, "I'm not into patience." Cracks shells instead. A woman who grew up doing this can't imagine why you'd order mussels in a restaurant. "I just think of the smell," she says.
The boys turn over barnacle-covered rocks to search for little burgundy crabs.
On the way to West Beach we find a three inch long bug. Everyone keeps asking, "Is it real?"
Tiny tug boats carry sawdust. Where does it come from? Where does it go? What is it for? Should I lay on my right side or left? More suntan lotion anyone? Should I cross my right foot over my left?
Crossbows and mean boastful boys. "Do you own your cabin? We do. Whaddyou mean you don't have a DS? That's so gay. I forbid my son to play with them, wishing I could protect him from this kind of boy all his life.
Breakfast in the cabin with milk and plenty of sunlight.
The long trip home to hot-tempered Vancouver. Wish we were there, but the memories give us something to look forward to for next summer. Summer as it should be.
