Wish You Were Here

Ocean temperature: 73 degrees
Beach read: The Bell Jar
Best song randomly heard on the radio: Swim Until You Can't See Land, Frightened Rabbit

The little house on the oceanfront reached critical mass yesterday with the arrival of Things 4, 5 and eventually 6, but making for an instant party with the reigning Thing 3 already present.

Wisely anticipating the hordes of holiday visitors, we established our presence on the beach early (first beer was opened at 9:58 a.m. owing to Thing 3's axiom "2 by 10 and 10 by 2"), the better to discourage interlopers from crowding us.

We needn't have worried; we seemed to operate within a force field that left us plenty of room in which to enjoy ourselves without tripping over others.

With the water so warm, though, the problem was how crowded the ocean was. I don't think I've ever seen so many people in the water at the same time; more than once one of our group was nearly taken out by a bodysurfer or errant skimboarder.

No complaints, though, because between the temperature and the surf level, it was ocean perfection.

By the time we made it back up to the house late in the day (okay, technically early in the evening), it was time for Thing 3 to pack up and head home.

We drew out our goodbyes as long as we could and as Thing 3 faded in the distance, we quickly showered and headed out for some Saturday night fun.

Once again the democratic system was used and the Outer Banks Brewing Station (the first wind-powered brew pub! or so they claim) won easily.

The place was mobbed but there were four bar stools with our names on them sitting empty when we arrived, so we claimed them and began our extended evening of eating, drinking and chatting up everyone around us.

One thing I do like about the OBBS is that they offer growlers (are you listening Julie and Dave?) and, as it happened, the local enjoying a cold beverage next to me was having his growler refilled while he was there, sparking a discussion of the benefits of the growler system (and an offer to come share his), not that I needed convincing.

One of our bartenders was a charming smart-ass (my favorite kind) and added much to our enjoyment. I think that once he realized that we were there for the duration, he figured he might as well insinuate himself into the conversation for his own amusement.

The longer we stayed, the more we saw the crowd shift until eventually it seemed to be a lot of people like us: non-family types who weren't thinking of going anywhere anytime soon. Independence eve celebrants, if you will.

Once we got home, we had the brilliant idea to walk up to the Tsunami Bar (because it's so close we rationalized) for a nightcap.

Sprawled on the deck overlooking the ocean, sipping our drinks, all three Things lamented their not being able to stay past the Monday holiday.

I reminded them that they still had two full days of surf and sand ahead of them, but they were already quite sure that it wouldn't be enough.

I promised to think of them once they're gone.

As the picture postcards might say: Weather is here, wish you were beautiful.

Some more than others.