At the church service auction Jeri and Sabine had made the winning bid on a week at a summer house, and they invited me to join them. I couldn't stay for the week but last Friday I headed for NJ and Saturday Jeri and I drove down to the house, and I stayed until today (Tuesday), when I drove back to Vermont.
Not being a beach person, I was ill-prepared. Vermonters who go tubing, or swimming at the local pond or lake wear shorts over their bathing suits, and grab a convenient towel. Beach People, however, wear proper beach coverups. So I bought one. Actually, two. Because not having a hat as sun protection at the ocean is just plain dumb, Beach People also wear Beach Hats. I left my hat of choice at home, by the front door. I had to buy another, the only one in the shop that fit. Kate Estler would recognize it. It's HUGE, like hers. Not red, though. I also do not have a beach towel. I mooched one from the supply at the vacation house. I will have to remedy that defect before I get asked to the beach again. And get a second bathing suit, just for variety's sake.
Some of you, who know that I am not really a Beach Person, are now wondering if I'm suddenly looking forward to another beach vacation. Well, yes, I am. Either by invitation or because I will plan such a trip myself. It was a vacation that I've never had before. It was agenda-less.
An agenda-less beach vacation goes like this.
Get up at a reasonably early hour, unless you're Sabine who gets up at 5am and bikes a great many miles to start her day.
Drink some coffee, eat some breakfast. Identify the birds at the feeder.
Put on swimwear and coverup, grab a book, pile the snacks, beverages, and beach stuff into the car, drive to beach (about a mile) by 9 am or so.
Trundle beach stuff out to the right spot, lay out towels, blankets, set up umbrellas.
Get in the ocean for a bit.
Sit under the umbrellas and read.
Get in the ocean for a bit.
Sit under the umbrellas and read some more. Maybe nap.
Talk with your friends.
Jump up and watch when dolphins begin appearing in the water.
Nap.
Thank the person who went to get sandwiches.
Get in the ocean for a bit.
Walk along the beach.
Sit under the umbrellas and read some more.
Talk about what you're reading.
Have a salty snack, and some water.
Get in the ocean for a bit.
When everyone agrees, pack everything up and drive back home. Maybe 2pm or 3pm, or 4. Or later.
Shower.
Collectively invent some dinner that is tasty and easy.
Talk about working in academia with another invited guest.
Read some more.
Talk about music festivals with Sabine's brother.
Play a hilarious card game called "Spoons".
Go to bed.
Next day, repeat.
Next day, repeat.
I didn't take knitting. TOO HOT, and knitting surrounded by sand is a risky business.
I didn't take the camera to the beach. Sand is risky to camera workings.
I did more reading than I've done in months. I was reading for work as well as pleasure but I enjoyed all my reading.
A beach vacation differs considerably from day trips to the beach. On a beach vacation, you're already there. There's not lots of packing, not lots of driving, not lots of traffic (if you're lucky), and little or no worry about what time it is. On a beach vacation, time doesn't march on. It just glides by. A vacation at the beach means that you intend to spend a lot of time just sitting.
Most of the time on vacation, if I'm sitting, I'm really waiting to get up and do something. A state park vacation means that trails call to be walked. A mountain vacation means a call to hiking. A visit to a new city or town means a call to sightseeing. A singing vacation means, well, singing. These are all fine vacation activities because they aren't work. But at the beach, unless you are a competitive swimmer, or a fisherman, very little calls out "Do me".
A vacation from doing. I'm all for it.
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