Monthly Archives: October 2011

Beaching out on the last breath of summer

Last week we had unseasonably warm weather. I thought I was ready for full-on fall, with its chilliness and wind and rain, with the boots and cardigans and scarves that I love wearing–but those warm days made me wish that I could hang on just a little longer to the sun, the gentle breeze, the walks on the beach, the smell of cut grass.

On that Saturday my husband was out of town, helping his parents clean the roof and other miscellaneous house-parts for a house showing (anyone looking for a home in quiet Northern Indiana? anyone?). I mistakenly thought I had to rehearse for that Acoustic Blend event, so I stayed behind and ended up having a day of solitude. I rarely have a whole day to myself, and guys–it was lovely. It was lovely beyond belief.

It reminded me that I am, at the heart of things, an introvert. Being alone, esconced in silence, revitalizes me. From the moment I woke up until the moment I went to bed, I barely spoke. I followed my own rhythm. I made coffee and read a book. I talked to God about things as they came up; I listened for his answers.

I organized my closet (more about that soon). I took some coffee and a sarong down to our neighborhood beach and sat on the sand, looking out at the lake.

I lay on my stomach and read my book, wearing shorts for probably the last time of the year.

I listened to the shouts of children running, having one last beach day, splashing into the water with all their clothes on, building one final sand castle.

The ice cream man pushed his cart along the sand, ringing his bell.

A solitary woman danced, shaking her hips and swaying her arms with tai-chi-like motions, moving from spot to spot as I watched so that she was always in the sunlight, enveloped in her own little world.

 

Couples ambled by, hand in hand. Joggers moved past, their feet thumping the damp sand.

Groups of partiers rallied for one last day on their boats, soaking up the warmth, their whooping and laughter carrying across the water like confetti in the breeze.

Is there anything as peaceful as sipping a hot beverage outside on a cool day, and letting its warmth travel through your palms and into the rest your body?

Guys, I’m so happy. This was one of those days that you think with wonder: “This is my life. And I love it.”

Once my mug of coffee was drained, I wandered around the neighborhood, taking pictures with my little (and frequently forgotten) point-and-shoot camera.

To finish off the day I constructed a pile of pillows on the futon, watched Sleepless in Seattle with a big bowl of popcorn by my side, and finally fell asleep reading.

It was a perfect day.

When is that last time you had an entire day alone? Do you need that time to yourself to recharge?

It's your best day!

Good morning, birthday girl!

It’s your best day!

Somehow you went from this . . .

. . . to this . . .

. . . to this!

I’ll be danged if I know how it happened.

Should we perhaps call you the birthday queen?

I hope you have an awesome day at work, teaching your classroom the beauties of the Spanish language. I hope you eat something great, that someone (other than yourself) makes you a birthday cake, and that you get to have a long and wonderful talk with your deployed hubby-of-a-Dave.

I love you, and I’m so glad you came into the world 26 years ago . . . even if I was a little disgruntled at first.

Wary of the competition, some might say.

Concerned about the waning status of my supremacy in the household.

By the way, um . . . what do you want for your birthday again?