You know the old saying, “If March comes in like a lion, it
goes out like a lamb.” Or vice versa. I don’t remember how March, 2024, went,
but our month of May resembled the Fourth of July—plenty of bang and fireworks.
I worked hard on Monday and Tuesday, getting other writing
tasks out of the way, so I only needed to edit when we met our daughter’s
family at Port Aransas. She was delighted to rent the same condo as we had last
year. On Wednesday, we packed clothes, foodstuffs, and beach gear and headed south.
Once we boarded the ferry, I relaxed. The briny air. Sea
gulls calling in their “laughing” voices. Greenish-gray bay water. All so
familiar, yet so different from our daily lives.
We checked into the condo and put away our things. Knowing
the kids weren’t too far behind us, we left to grab a bite, knowing our
granddaughters would want to be on the beach as soon as humanly possible. It
was my first time to eat at McDaddy’s, and I’ll happily return. Their smoked
chicken was delicious! Later in the week, we ordered a pound of brisket for
dinner with our son and his wife. Fun. Fun. Fun.
The surf chopped like a knife this year. The girls adored
it, but not all the time. Ten-year-old Annabelle caught four small jellyfish.
Not sure how that girl does it. She put the translucent creatures in a sand
bucket with seaweed. Naturally, when she left it unattended, five-year-old
Ellie swished her hand in the bucket. Sure enough, her thumb turned bright red
with tiny sting marks. Then eight-year-old Ria brushed her arm against a larger
jellyfish in the tidewater. They both complained about the stings, but I appreciated
the way they shrugged it off. Bad things happen, but a victim mentality only
makes it worse.
However, the next day, Ellie sat in a cluster of sand fleas
and had bites all over her legs and bottom. Poor baby girl. It helped to have a
pool near the condo with no sea creatures. The girls enjoyed the slide and
playing in the water. They had to be coaxed out when Phil and Carolina arrived.
We ate in because the noise levels in restaurants seem
louder than ever. With three little girls, it also seemed wise to keep things relaxed.
Phil informed us the traffic was so congested, the ferry route wasn’t an
option. He had to reroute because the wait time for the ferry was an hour.
Dinner was low key. We quickly assembled the meats, salad,
and a few side dishes. Afterward, Phil taught the girls how to play Yahtzee. Nothing
like rolling the dice and hoping for the best. The adults cheered when young Ria
smoked her competition with two yahtzees. Nothing like a hundred extra points
to put you in the clear.
Dave metal-detected but didn’t get in the water because his
thumb is still healing. He took it in stride and enjoyed watching the girls
ride boogie boards.
The late nights were special, picking out movies with the
girls, eating popcorn and Dave’s homemade cookies. Of course, we had to watch “Pirates
of the Caribbean.” The theme song swirled in my head for days. And yes, Jack
Sparrow is the worst pirate ever.
Still, it was good to come home to our dogs. Gotta love
those exuberant greetings. It’s fun being someone’s forever friend.
I’m still working on edits for Glitter and the Grouch,
the novella in my Valiant series, but the deadline is in sight. Sitting
for hours, working on my computer can be tedious. It’s also a refuge. And
downright thrilling to share my stories with other people.
Love my Lord. Love my family. Love to write. Where’s your
sweet spot?