Mom and I took this picture on the ferry. Hard to believe that until I actually saw this photo, I used to think those sunglasses made me look like Jackie Kennedy.
The good times had only just begun.
My sister and her family arrived the next day. But what is there to do on Block Island, you might ask? Honestly, not a heck of a lot. We decided to head to the beach.
Shortly after we spread out the blanket, a dog came by and pooped in the sand. Its owner was then kind enough to dig a hole and bury the poo. This prompted my father to wisely observe, "Never bury dog crap below the high tide marker." We moved our blanket.
The dog droppings, it turned out, were an omen. There we were, my nephews swimming in the ocean, my mother, sister and I reading and snacking on sand-flavored Doritos, when it happened.
A seagull pooped on my mother's arm.
We tried to assure her that it was good luck. She was not amused. (I was, and Mom, I apologize again for getting the giggles for two hours straight.)
When we arrived at State Beach the next morning, things were looking sunny. We saw this big guy eyeing my mother, but she was packing heat this time, and he wisely backed off when she threw a flip-flop at him.
Here's my sister Kim, my brother-in-law Tim, and me, posing at that fun little sign.
To give you an idea of how far back I had to go to reminisce about such things, here's a shot of the boys now. They've grown a bit. I have to give them credit, though: when I asked them to pose, they weren't a bit shy. I love those guys.
So there you have it. I don't have anything witty or wise to write about this week, because I'm taking some time off to relax. This week, I get to be one of those annoying people who shows everyone their pictures of summer vacation.