I walk into Walmart as Clerk #1 walks out with a big shovel and a golf club.

Clerk #2:
“Thur’s a 5 foot black snike on that car ova thur, he’ll git it.”

I didn’t stay to watch, but my MIL told me the snake coiled around the golf club and they took it away. The shovel was for protection. She tells me black snakes are everywhere, but not poisonous.

“They pack a bite, but it won’t kill ya”

As if that makes a difference.

FlyGuy and Little Lassie were a few steps ahead of me going to the beach one day. I came off the bridge between our house and the sand and saw this picture. My little Sassafras is giving daddy big attitude. The body language says it all. I think she’s even leaning in to her scream like a professional athlete or in this case a professional Diva.

(*To Beth: Yes, you caught me wearing my watch in my last post! I had to put it on because coordinating the nap and meal times for all the people at the beach house was impossible without it. I’m back in the country and sans watch again. Still struggling to read the sun dial out back. Wishing time didn’t matter so much to me)

The first time I saw our beach was 30 years ago. We went every year until I graduated from high school. I went with my boyfriend in college. It feels like home to me.

Last week, I introduced Little Lassie to our beach. The house we rented was filled to the brim with my sisters, their children and my parents. We wore tie-dye shirts for the formal picture on the sand. Tropical Storm Fay tried to ruin our moment, but netflix saved the day.

Plans were made to return next year, maybe even this Christmas. Years back I dreamed of introducing my daughter to our beach. I hoped she would love it.
She did.