10 yearsPosted: August 21, 2012 Filed under: vacation | Tags: beach vacations, Blink's Fry Doe, family vacations, Hampton Beach, Salisbury Beach, sand sculptures, sandcastles 13 Comments
There was a big debate one day on the beach among my relaxation-seeking, cocktail-sipping sun-worshiping clan. The debate had nothing to do with the upcoming presidential election, Lochte vs Phelps, or the reliance on fossil fuels. No, this debate had to do with how many years we’d been relaxing, drinking, and sunning on Salisbury Beach. I thought the answer was 9, figuring in typical journalism-major calculations that because Macy is 10 and her first trip to the beach was when she was a year and a half, the answer is 9.
Our lovely hostess, BA, used similar math yet had a loophole that somehow allowed for two summers in each year; Enron-style accounting, perhaps, or maybe just wishful thinking. The math geek in the crowd, aka The Hubs, used his very large, thrice-degreed brain to work out that the answer was indeed 10.
While my kiddos and our bestest bud Ed have frolicked on our favorite beach 10 summers, The Hubs and I missed one year, thanks to that dreadful post-mastectomy infection that grounded me and damn near sleighed me. I’m still collecting my do-over, in the form of bottomless cocktails and the record in our group for most hours spent parked in a beach chair facing the surf, soaking up more than my fair share of vitamin D. I win.
The traditional symbol for a 10-year anniversary is a gift of aluminum or tin. Save the platinum and diamonds for milestones down the road; for a decade it’s aluminum or tin. Not the best subjects, I admit, although we unknowingly partook of the aluminum tradition with our cans of beer on the beach (lots of cans of beer), and I’m sure we could have rustled up a tin cup for sipping frozen margaritas or the off-the-cuff Malibu rum/orange-mango nectar/ginger ale concoction Jenn dubbed “Heaven in a Cup.” But alas, I was laboring under the assumption that we were only at our 9-year beach anniversary, which is unworthy of traditional or modern gifts.
No matter. Once the great debate concluded and the vexing math problem was solved, the celebration began in earnest. Instead of breaking out the Bloody Marys upon the respectable 11 a.m. hour, we filled our glasses whenever we damn well pleased. After a cup of coffee, for sure, but then…let the games begin.
I’m not necessarily a sucker for tradition, but I do like to recognize milestones, especially when they involve adult beverages. A 10-year span of seaside fun certainly is worthy of recognition. So, without further ado, I present the afore-promised photoglut of beach photos.
He does it again!Posted: August 4, 2011 Filed under: breast cancer | Tags: family vacation traditions, Jacoby Ellsbury, Markey's lobster, Red Sox, Salisbury Beach, sand sculptures 5 Comments
Apparently my favorite Red Sox player likes having Texans in the house…since we’ve been here, he’s hit back-to-back walk-offs for Sox victories. Very nice. Last night’s was especially exciting because it was a walk-off home run. Just as we were hoping against extra innings, Jacoby delivered.
There will be lots of happy Sox fans on the beach today. I’m heading down in a few minutes for more fun in the sun. Last night’s lobster feast at Markey’s was as good as ever. Macy had asked if she could have some of my lobster tail, and rather than share what IMHO is the best part of the lobster, I said, “Get your own, kid.” We figured she’d eat part of the tail and we’d have extra lobster to put in scrambled eggs this morning. Then we learned that there’s no such thing as “extra lobster.” That bug was picked clean.
So there will be no lobster & eggs this morning. No matter; we’ll get more. That’s the beauty of being at Salisbury Beach — plenty of lobster, whether from Markey’s or steamed on site at the grocery store.
Trevor will be creating another sand sculpture today, to add to the two he’s already done:
He’s taking requests, so if there’ something you want to see, by all means shout it out. His sand sculptures are pretty popular around here and are much admired, although I thought Macy might smack the lady who walked by yesterday and thought Perry the Platypus was a dinosaur. Sometimes being in the presence of art invokes strong emotions.
We’re all about traditions at Salisbury Beach. Whether it’s dinner at Markey’s or dessert next-door at Dunlap’s or sand sculptures on the beach, tradition rules, and this year our traditions are even more special. Like the Joni Mitchell song says, “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone,” traditions become more important when threatened with extinction. To say I’m glad I’m here this year is to be loaded with meaning. I’m glad I’m here, in Massachusetts among friends I consider family at a beach my family loves. But even more so, I’m glad I’m here.