This week I was able to visit one of my favorite spots! I’ve been planning a trip to the beach since the days began to warm up here in South Florida. Last summer I spent every weekend sunning and perfecting my GOD given tan. I have chairs, big umbrellas, a cooler, sand toys, goggles, suba gear for the kid, swimsuits, cover-ups, sunblock, sun hats, ipod radio, storm radio and so on. If you can use it at the beach I own it. I was counting down the days until KT and I would pack up the truck, gather our snacks and spend the day acting like a fish. Well it never happened and he’s gone on summer vacation. I miss hear dearly!
But this week has been stressful since I am sooo very cluelessly taking a quantitative research graduate course, teaching a graduate class which I enjoy tremendously, missing a last minute paid hotel trip to New Orleans (I could not afford purchasing a plane ticket to help sponsor BP’s oilspill clean up for +300) and my blackberry being on the fritz. I needed a day off from my real life. I packed my cute straw beach tote handbag with Essence, More and Lucky magazines and the late E. Lynn Harris’ new novel In My Father’s House. This decision turned out to be one of the best spur of the moment decisions I’d made all week.
I spent four hours listening to the waves crashing and R & B oldies on B106.3 in between Michael Baisden’s trashy show (no judgment please). I ate grapes & a fruit cup that were chilled in my cooler, snacked on the kids Scooby doo cookies and drank bottled water. The weather was 88 degrees with just enough sunshine peeking from behind the clouds to create the perfect background. The only not so great moments were the family of 10 that arrived and settled down next to me (I had to pull out the earbuds and iPod to remain in my serene place), the dude who was with his kids and wife/woman that kept staring at me while I was enjoying the semi-rough ocean waves (I was thinking dude really. She should slap you! HARD!!) and the reminder of how ruined Florida beaches are (the land is no longer flat you walk down a steep cliff now to reach the water). We have vicious hurricanes to thank for that and the sand they used to mend the broken beaches feel like lamb’s wool.
Despite those few flaws Harris’ main character Bentley Dean III’s life transported me to the hot life in Miami. I made it through 17 chapters of the book. Those hours on the beach worked magic de-stressing me that I decided to continue to pamper myself. On the way home, I stopped at Marshalls grabbed a candle, foaming bath soak, body cream called the beach and soaked all the grim of life right off. I had almost forgotten how refreshing the beach and a nice quiet warm bath could be. I was blessed to get both all in the same day.
All photos taken by me =0)