I know, I know. Not only is this my fourth (!) post of the day, but it's also another beach post. Yall must hate me. Alas, I could get technical and point out that this isn't "just" the beach, it's the Cape. Yes, that's right. Cape Cod. Fabled and famed, and finally frequented.
You may or may not have noticed that I didn't blog yesterday (Wednesday). I was gently prodded into missing work for an adventure on the Cape. Having never been there, and knowing I will be working this coming Saturday, I decided it was now or never.
Mike, Cyrus, Brian, Linda and I began the day early. Our drive down to the Cape was rather uneventful but filled with some sweet tunes and hilarious conversation. I learned from Mike what "make it rain" means and we discussed dependents and tax breaks for pseudo-parents.
We kept ourselves busy driving, picking up Brian's luggage, shopping for 99 cent shirts at Riley's gift shop, throwing pistachio shells out the window, off-tunely singing "Umbrella" for Linda who'd never heard it before, deciding which swear words/phrases we'd "legalize", and finally arriving at the beach.
**Update: I failed to mention that there's a great white shark on the loose in the waters surrounding the Cape. It's been spotted close to shore many times and has been devoring local seals. Sharks attack in 3 feet of water. This of course added mixed emotions to the experience. I think everyone kind of wanted to see a shark. Well, everyone but Mike.
In my head, this beach isn't what I had in my mind when I thought of Cape Cod. This particular beach looked a little like something out of Star Wars: on location in Saudi Arabia. The conditions were nearly perfect. The photos show they were perfect. What you can't see, however, is the wind that blew across the Sahara. Any exposed body part was subjected to torturous piercing of sand-sized pellets. The pain was especially prickling when wet. Wet, exposed body parts are typically standard at the beach.
The boys tried to surf the waves but had better luck surfing the dunes.
We called the Beach done after not so long and with grit in our teeth and competition in our hearts, we decided to play some mini-golf (Mike hates the phrase "putt-putt") and have some ice cream.
I have little patience for golf, but found myself tied for first after the first 9 holes. This could very well be to the only hole-in-one of the game. By any one in our party. Whoop. Don't worry, I blew it on the back nine and ended in 4th place. No big surprise there.
We drove home. The day itself wasn't terribly eventful, but we sure laughed. A lot. And that's my favorite kind of day.
::cue Full House end credits music::