Sunday, May 29, 2011

Memorial Day 2011


We’re travelling to my father-in-law’s on the Jersey shore for the next two days. Not sure if I’ll have access to a PC. He and my girls will most likely be spending all of Sunday and part of Monday on the beach, camping out right out to the waves. They’re all beach bums. Me, not so much. I’m bringing my laptop and will camp out at my FIL’s pad. Also bring my next Shakespeare, my current SF read, and a philosophy or religion book. I’m looking forward to lots of reading, writing, and a real long, well-deserved nap.

Not sure what we’re doing Sunday night, but if tradition holds, we’ll go out to eat somewhere on the “boardwalk.” FIL likes an Italian restaurant that serves decent food at a decent price run by very nice folks. After that we’ll take the girls for ice cream. Okay, I’ll have some ice cream, too.

It’s tradition, too, to watch the Memorial Day parade down there. The girls love it because all the marchers and parade participants – firemen, policemen, EMS workers, local politicians, scouts, school bands – they all toss out assorted candies as they go by. Little One and now Patch will be fielding flying treats and scooping them up into their oversized hats with glee.

We’re renting a room overnight because the bungalow we’ve been in for the past couple of years is not available this weekend. Motel’s cheap but respectable; FIL booked a room with his senior discout and eyeballed the place. I just don’t want to share a cheap motel with a hundred drunk frat boys and girls. We’ll see; hopefully I won’t have anything to blog about in this regard next week.

Spent the day yesterday preparing for our trip. Did errands, just me and the Little One, always the best part of the week. How’s this – she’s memorized some lyrics to one of my Yes songs, and she sounds exactly like John Anderson! I like to reverse it, and note to anyone who’s interested that the lead singer for the progressive rock group Yes sounds like a six-year-old girl. But I say that with love and props, because I love all them old guys.

Finished watching the DVD of Cymbeline Friday night. Whew. Now I have four previously-unread Shakespearean plays under my belt. I’m going back to a comedy next, As You Like It. Took the Folger’s Library edition of the play and the BBC DVD from the library during our errand run; can’t wait to crack it.

Saturday afternoon we put the girl’s in their bathing suits and turned on the sprinkler in the backyard. One of the joys of parenthood, watching them prance about the yard, squealing with delight, jumping over the water sprinkler. Then the wife did some gardening and I strummed my guitar. A beautiful beginning summer day. Life is good, at least for this brief moment in time.

Not much else to note. One job lead in the works, but I promised myself and those I’ve revealed it to not to get too excited; these things have a tendency of falling depressingly flat when hopes rise to a certain level. Next week will be busy beyond all crazy; as a matter of fact, the whole entire summer looks to be busy. That’s depressing to me. While doing the laundry earlier yesterday I wondered what exactly I had to do to become a Carthusian monk. These are the chaps who take a vow of silence; what a delight living in such a monastery must be!

Wait – I gotta run. Someone’s calling me – yelling for me, actually – to go upstairs, and I hear hysterically crying children. Talk to ya later …

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