Beach day

Growing up in the midwest, beach vacations were a special treat. Especially in our family because most of our vacations were spent at Maidstone,
we didn't go to the beach all that often. Now anyone who knows me at all knows that I'm a happy, happy girl whenever water is near. Lakes, beaches, whatever. So the best moment of any beach vacation was the first moment I stepped onto the beach, feet sinking into the sand and the salty, ocean breeze blowing in your face...seriously, this is bliss!! This was always closely followed by the first time you stood in the sand and let a wave roll up the beach and over your feet, then as the wave rolls back out taking the sand with it and sinking your feet into the wet sand. These moments never get old, but what I never considered until today is the FIRST time you have these particular moments. The sights, smells and sounds must be a little overwhelming. So, I took the nugget down to the beach today, and while I'm sure he has been on a beach before, he just started walking during the winter, so he has never walked himself onto a beach. The whole experience was comical, first he wiggled his little feet a little in the dry sand on the top part of the beach, then as we walked closer to the water we hit the wet sand and it started all over again. He felt the sensations, considered the positive and negative, and decided this was awesome and then we moved on. Then I totally blew his mind by pulling the shovels out of the bucket and starting to play in the wet sand. He was tentative at first, then as you can tell by the picture, he totally committed to play time on the beach. I will have to say though, that the best part was when we actually walked to water's edge to clean up a little before heading home. It took a little convincing to get him close enough to let the water touch his feet, but once we did and the first wave rolled up on his feet it, literally, took him out at the ankles. It was like he was so shocked by the sensation he didn't know what to do, so he just fell backwards with the natural flow of the water looking completely awed by what was happening. It took a couple waves, but once he got the hang of it, the nugget officially fell in love with the water. I anticipate a fun summer with much beach time, but am slightly concerned his love might cause me some stress as he heads for the water like a bull to the cape time after time. But really, who could blame him?

Breakfast Hike

Last weekend we had an almost idyllic weekend, weather wise. The winter was a cold and dreary winter which led into a couple pretty severe rainstorms, there was flooding everywhere, including my apartment. This, of course, had people all over New England ready to enjoy the sun and warmth. After spending at least an hour, both Thursday and Friday, out walking along New Hampshire's seacoast with the peanut, my motivation was in good shape Saturday morning when I asked my cousin, Maria, if she wanted to go for a walk. I was thinking we would walk down the street to the lake, but Charlie had other ideas. He suggested we go on a breakfast hike by Stonehouse Pond. So we packed up some coffee in a thermos, stopped at the bakery to pick up some bagels and headed to the pond. The path was somewhat undefined, shall we say, and we had trouble keeping to it so we did a lot of bushwacking. We took turns playing Sacagewea, Lewis and Clark, which seemed to fit our group pretty well. About halfway around the lake there is a sudden and steep uphill climb. We climbed to the top of the rock, took five minutes to catch our breath, and then relaxed and enjoyed the view. It was perfectly warm, but not too hot. The sky was blue, the sun was out and the coffee was still hot. It was perfection, one of those moments that makes you appreciate the small things in life. We spent about an hour soaking in the sun and enjoying the view before continuing down the other side of the rock and the rest of the way around the pond. I don't think we actually ever found the path on the other side, so we spent a lot of time pushing branches out of the way and hopping rocks across small brooks, until we reached the road to the car. There really is no more fantastic way to go "out" to breakfast.

Basketball

I am a pretty random person, I enjoy being thrown into unknown situations. After all, they often lead to the most fun. So when my cousin, Brian, asked me if I wanted to go to a Celtics game with a bunch of people I either barely knew or didn't know at all, after the original person had to back out, I said absoloutely. We headed out from Maine semi-early with some coffee and anticipation. We picked up the next two in our group in southern New Hampshire and then headed into Boston to meet up with the rest. Once we dropped our stuff off at our new friends' place and immediately headed out in search of food. We found ourself smashed into a corner booth of a pizza joint called Regina's. There is no better icebreaker then eating really good pizza while sitting, almost, on top of each other. The group went from cautious strangers to a bunch of goofy, laughing friends within an hour. We shared funny stories, made business plans and so on and so on. We spent the rest of the pleasent afternoon over some cocktails at their very cute apartment in Boston's north side before heading to the game. Unfortunately, the Celtics got their asses handed to them by the San Antonio spurs. However it was still a fun event. Cincinnati never had professional basketball, so I don't know much about it and don't follow it at all. I found, though, that my love for virtually all things sports definitely extends to basketball. I could probably even get into being a Celtics fan, it was that fun. Overall the trip was well worth four hours in the car, and the two hours of sleep I got before heading to work the next morning. Anything in the name of a new adventure, haha...