A handful of days at the beach are like cheap therapy for me. Well, not so cheap, really. There are costs to consider: the cost of the beach house rental, the house and pet sitter fees, dinners out, the cost of gas…
But still. It’s therapy. It’s good for me.
Each day, I awoke, grudgingly, shortly after sunrise, sunlight streaming through the white shades in the lilac-walled master bedroom. The sounds of the kids whispering in the hallway and clopping up the stairs was enough to get my mind moving, anticipating the day ahead. Breakfast was boxed cereal on most days, but on that special first morning, we were treated to gooey slices of Julia’s cream-cheese-stuffed french toast. Hours at the beach, sweaty and sandy with salt-pinched skin, were followed by cool dips in the lap pool and lunch breaks in the crisp, air-conditioned beach house.
Summer is slipping by, faster than should be allowed. My children start their school year on August 20th. On that day, we will be the proud owners of a third-grader and a kindergartener. And for the hordes of us whose lives revolve around the school year, that day will be our first day of fall.
Time to break out the sweaters and boots? Oh, no. Not yet, dear friends, not even close.
The Florida weather gods have ensured that we cannot ignore the summer, even when we prefer to pretend that fall is just around the corner (on August 20th!). There is not a smidgen of cool, crisp weather to be had. The stifling heat, often accompanied by unpredictable mosquito attacks, has banished me from my beloved front porch – and back porch, too, for that matter. I’ve taken up jogging again (it never seems to stick), and each morning after running in 95% humidity this week, I feel like a sponge with asthma.