There was beach towels, blankets and quilts. Beach chairs and a $10 umbrella with a broken bottom, purchased from a guy on another long ago beach day. There was talking and joking and reading books. There was a bag full of red cherries (nothing reminds me more of high school summer days than cherries) and beers wrapped in t-shirts for discretion. There was swimming and rough waves and huddling under the umbrella to avoid sunburn.
Before that, there was a long walk with the dog on the beach path and good conversation. There was bacon and fried bread topped with eggs. There was T arriving by bike and others circling for and, amazingly, finding parking.
Before that, there was a sleepover. We walked to the pier in the dark for ice cream. Per usual, H ordered a banana split the size of his forearm. We played euchre and listened to The Lone Bellow. We stayed up till 2am.
Before that, we vacuumed the floors and wiped down the bathroom. I ran 3miles on the beach path towards the hot setting sun. H cooked steaks and potatoes. We straightened up some more.
It was, in a way, like playing house, inviting our friends to our staycation place near the ocean. It’s a fantasy of mine to own a bed & breakfast, to make people feel welcome, to gather them together. This was kind of like that. And to be surrounded by my favorite people with the ocean in walking distance, is nothing short of a perfect summer weekend.