Photoshopped beach. December, 2007.
We ran away to the beach first thing this morning. Over coffee we had seen one of our local weather men blown away by the wind, seen his umbrella turned inside out. By the time we joined him, some other well wisher had brought him a new one. So for a while, before doing Christmas things, we reveled in the wind, the stunning blue skies, and the roar of the giant surf.
>Duck: Still confused. There will be good days, and there will be more and more days like these. We joined him for dinner this day.
Me: Yesterday. Did cards. Felt heroic. Today WE finished cards. Still felt heroic. Got some presents including a warm fleece lap robe for Duck and the same thing for another person at the home. Sometimes it gets very cold there.
G: Ordered portable light box. Talked for the first time about getting depressed. I was very touched. Finished cards. Dinner with Fanatical Feasters.
Weather: Rain, wind, surf. Blue skies; grey skies, altogether stunning stuff.
Is that red plastic cone supposed to be telling the child on the beach "Go no further"? A beach in wild weather really is the best.
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