On August 18, 2005, I moved off Block Island and rejoined mainland life. Imagine my surprise a decade later when I realized it was my "mainland anniversary"—and I was sitting on a ferry with my mother, heading to the island for a week's vacation. Perhaps I need to expand my horizons and travel to different places. You might be right. But I really needed a vacation, I was craving quality time with my family, and the rent was cheap enough. Off I went.
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.
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.
When we arrived on the island, Dad was there waiting for us. He was eager to show off his new pizza stone. A friend had advised him to oil it heavily before using, which had resulted in a bit of a flaming oil fire. Dad spent the afternoon trying to burn off some of the oil in the stone by heating it up on the grill on the deck, which resulted in a deck fire.
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.
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.
Here are my and my sister's feet. Everybody always says they can tell we're sisters just by looking at us, but I think that's silly. Her manicure is in "Aphrodite's Pink Nightie" pink, and I'm wearing "Lunch at the Delhi." See? We're nothing alike.
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.)
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.)
It was time to pack it up for the afternoon. We returned to the house, ate dinner, and decided to try again the next day.
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.
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.
The beach was pretty crowded. We had to walk quite a ways to find a spot where we'd all fit. Luckily, once we passed the sign that read END OF GUARD ZONE—SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK, there was plenty of room.
Here's my sister Kim, my brother-in-law Tim, and me, posing at that fun little sign.
Here's my sister Kim, my brother-in-law Tim, and me, posing at that fun little sign.
Nobody else seemed worried that we'd be swimming at our own risk, so who was I to argue? We set up our chairs and watched the boys swim. I got a little emotional, reminiscing about the days when Nathan would toddle into the water, chasing random balls or seaweed, while baby Evan would sit on the beach in his diaper and eat sand.
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.
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.
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