But the Air Outside So Soft

The city has been abandoned for the beach.

Driving down yesterday involved listening to quintessential road trip music like the Bo Deans and a stop at Adams' Country Store for an RC Cola and a bag of local peanuts. The couple who entered the store just ahead of me wanted nothing but a dandoodle - Adams' signature bag of pig parts - and walked out with it looking like they'd scored big.

My favorite beach cottage had weathered another year to greet me, the only change being two new raised Adirondack stools on the deck that I could live without. After all these years, the house is still in the flight line of a flock of pelicans who pass over the porch regularly.

Yesterday's ocean temperature was a delightful 69 degrees, while it was 68 today, maybe due to last night's brief but violent thunderstorm, which also knocked my favorite radio station off the air for much of today. The same radio station that had greeted me yesterday with Toad the West Sprocket's "All I Want," as perfect a pop song as ever written and a solid reflection of my current mood.

Or maybe all I want is to feel this way I do when I settle down for a week in my favorite beach house with nothing more expected of me than eating and sleeping. And while I was uncharacteristically up and out of bed by 8 a.m. (don't ask) and walking by 10:00, I'm not ashamed to say that by noon I had closed my book and retreated to my bedroom for the first official nap of vacation.

Mac hung on for a couple hours and then did the same. She'd barely sailed off to slumberland when Pru arrived and Whispering Angel Rose was put to chilling. I'm guessing our boisterous conversation awakened Mac, who soon joined us on the porch to display what Pru affectionately dubbed "the thigh incident," which involved some tender looking sore spots caused by rubbing from a hole in a pair of leggings.

Pros that we are, Mac and I would be the first to attest that walking is not without its own risks.

Late afternoon slid into early evening and eventually night as we drank more wine, periodically found snacks, made food, lighted candles and continued a conversation that included heavier things (a debate about whether or not I'm the emotional type) as well as lighter (memories of Jeanette's Pier back when it had rotting boards) and a whole lot in between.

Only Lady G was missing, but she's off to make nice at a family reunion in New England, god help her, so we're just three for now.

Pru likes to say that we've been through a lot and most of it was my fault and while I might argue the point, I think it's safe to say that there'll be a lot to blame on me over the next few days with these two as my cohorts.

Though the air speaks of all we'll never be
It won't trouble me

Not much does these days. Add in salt air and it only makes this happy woman happier.