Beach Things

Hey there, kiddos. Today’s post is brought to you by the letter “S.” 

Sunshine: sweet, sweet sunshine. After the freaky thunderstorms and downpours of last night, it was a relief to see the sun shining through this morning on my self-proclaimed “Brig goes to the beach” day. 

Sweat: that sunshine doesn’t come for free, you know. I’ll gladly pay for it when I’m out for a run, playing tennis, getting a good sweat on at the beach and sand is sticking to me everywhere (the sand hides my albino skin and gives the appearance of a tan); I don’t like paying for so much when I’m walking to the bus stop or to meet B for happy hour and look like I just dunked my head in a fountain. And my lower back? Forget about it. 

Sunscreen: another word synonymous w/ summer, and another thing I have to pay for. And pay I will; at nearly $10 a bottle, sun safety ain’t cheap.

Sand: I love it. Taking my flops off to walk across it barefoot, burying my toes in it, wiping it off when it gets scattered across my towel. I mean, it’s easier to just enjoy it than resent the fact that it gets EVERYWHERE. Dustpans and vacuums are no match for the havoc sand will wreak, so just chalk it up to one of the unavoidable quirks of summertime, like sunburns and high-waisted shorts. 

Saving grace: a genius little cup that will keep your drink cold. I plopped my drink in the sand as soon as I got to the beach, and my first sip was cold. Startlingly enough that I dribbled most of it down my shirt. It didn’t stay that cold, but it was never as lukewarm as tap water (gag). 

Softcover: Okay, this is kind of a cop out, but I figured if a hardcover book is called a hardcover, a paperback technically could be a softcover even though the book I brought was a hardcover. I just started Sweet Salt Air by Barbara Delinsky. It’s not the mindless drama I usually enjoy at the beach, but it’s not exactly Tolstoy. And I’m a sucker for anything involving small New England towns. I feel so hip reading about New England when I’m sitting in New England. Doesn’t get any hipper than that.