Three dolphins jumped out of the water directly in front of me.
I was rummaging in the bag for snacks for a very hungry Angel Boy, when he shouted, “Grandma, a shark, look near the jetty!”
Immediately, my eyes laser focused toward the spot where he was pointing, and I could see that it wasn’t a shark but a trio of shiny dolphins!
Dolphins make me happy. Seeing a dolphin with my favorite boy makes me even happier.
I tried to snap a pic but wasn’t quick enough. They were headed north, sharply silhouetted by the rays of the summer sun setting low toward the horizon,
Instead, I was able to capture the multiple joys of my two favorite Angel Boys.
History repeats itself as the sun goes down and I’m calling both of them to COME OUT OF THE WATER, IT’S TIME TO GO HOME!
“Five more minutes, Grandma. Daddy says to tell you five more minutes.”
I experienced a major deja vu moment of standing in that same spot many times over the years as I shouted at the top of my lungs for the original AB to come out of the water because it was completely DARK.
Half an hour later, tired and sandy, we head home to a shower, more food, and an exhausted but happy boy falls immediately asleep.
The beach was overcast but the waves were full of surfers. The swell looks to be about three feet or so, but I heard it’s building to five feet by Friday, not that this knowledge impacts my life in any way as I don’t surf and never go in the water, but it’s pretty to look at and hear and smell the salty sea air.
Mostly I look for dolphin or whales or my eyes are laser focused on the Angels when they’re here.
Happy Sunday to everyone except the idiotic Supreme Court.
We can’t stop the passage of time nor the movement of the tides, no matter how much we might want to halt the inexorable inevitability.
This proverb appeared about 1395 in Geoffrey Chaucer’s Prologue to the Clerk’s Tale but I also found a source that said it was recorded as early as 1225 and is reputedly a quote from Saint Mahrer. However, it’s also believed that the expression time and tide wait for no man might be older than that.
My son sent me this photo while he was at Golden Gardens Park in Ballard, Washington on beautiful Shilshole Bay.
It depicts the lowest tide in decades, four feet lower than average.
We have the same exact phone but he takes better pictures than I do, and of course he likes to send them to me to show me what I’m missing.
First thing this morning, directly outside my bedroom window, I was greeted by not one, not two, but THREE bunnies! I knew right then and there that it was going to be a great day.
I could see this gigantic ship pretty much all the way from my house and I don’t think it moved at all, or very slowly, by the time I made it to the beach. Going north or south, I can’t tell. It was quite a few miles offshore, that’s why it’s not a clear photo.
It’s about seventy degrees and GORGEOUS. No whales or dolphin, just a couple surfers having fun in the smallish waves.
I was sitting crosslegged on top of a cement picnic table on the sidewalk overlooking the beach when someone walked by and told me I looked quite peaceful. Maybe it’s because of the way I was sitting, meditatively, but the thoughts in my head weren’t so serene. It was H-O-T and I was not looking forward to the long UPHILL walk back to Casa de Enchanted Seashells. In addition to those thoughts, I had to use the restroom and the beach bathroom isn’t the most luxurious, but when you gotta go…So I did and then I could no longer delay the inevitable — I walked home.
I got up super early and went to the part of the beach that never fails to provide a variety of plentiful rocks for all my projects. This time was no exception. The irony is that there are no seashells here; only rocks. My local beaches aren’t known for seashell collecting, but rocks are welcome treasures, too.
There was the bluest of sunny skies but it was windy and sand was blowing all over the place from another mild Santa Ana.
I was able to find all the rocks I needed, joined by an audience of seagulls and shorebirds. It was so early there were few humans so we had the beach to ourselves.
Every rock is so beautiful and unique; I have a hard time choosing who comes home with me. Just look at them!
THUMP like a dinosaur as he jumps from the top step.
Crawling in bed with me at 5:30 a.m. to chat about dreams and breakfast and plans for the day,
“Grandma, did you make more cookies?” “Grandma, did the coyotes come last night? Can we check the camera?” “Grandma, can we do the slip and slide now?” “Grandma, are there a lot of kids at the park now?” “Grandma, Char is still sleeping, so is mommy and daddy.” “Grandma, when Daddy was a little boy and went to Kelly, did he play outside too?” “Did he have a slip and slide like mine?” “I’m going to kindergarten in September but not at Kelly.” “Grandma, can I have this rock? Can I bring the giant transformer home? Can I bring the red ball home?” “Grandma, we are staying here for a really long time, right Grandma?” “How many more days?” “Can we go to the lagoon today? It’s not as salty as the beach.” “I counted all the steps up to my bedroom. I can jump from almost all the way up. Want to watch me, Grandma?” “Where’s Dad going? WHERE ARE YOU GOING, DADDY?” (Early morning surf sesh, that’s where.)
“Get up, Grandma!“
And so it goes…
Sliced fruit, oatmeal, buckwheat pancakes, breakfast burritos, bagels, and toast–all before 7:00 a.m.
Second feeding after park or beach at about 10 a.m. Lunch at 11:45 a.m. Char down for a nap at noonish. More play, crafts while I get ready for after nap snacks to include my famous smoothies, cut up veggies and hummus, and probably a tofu hot dog or leftover dinner from the night before.
The beach, south of the jetty. There’s a dolphin out there but it’s impossible to see.
Slip and slide, two kiddie pools, running around. And around. And around. AND AROUND.
Indoors for a little inside play while I start dinner; maybe another trip to the park or a walk around the neighborhood. Here they are fascinated by the kindergarten kids.
Early first dinner at 4:30, more play, bath at 6ish, nighttime snack of sliced apples and almond butter, books and bed at 7pm.
For me? Exhaustion and joy equally by 7:30.
And then there’s almost two-year-old Charlotte…
“Grammy, come HERE! Help Charlotte take off shirt.” “Cookie for Charlotte!” NO! Not that one, other one!” “NO, I can do it!” “NO. STOP IT!” “Cuppa tea for Charlotte!” “Super cute baby at the park.” “Stop it, Theo! Don’t say that!” “Grandma, find mermaid!” “Grandma, water, please.” “Not that hat! Where’s Peppa hat?” “Go to park now.” “I see bunny. Theo, come see!” “Charlotte touch lizard?” “Bagel with cream cheese and jelly.” “Where’s Daddy and Mommy?” (Surfing, of course.)
Like I said, joy and exhaustion, but JOY wins every time. This is their first visit since Covid, the first time they left their house to fly anywhere in more than a year.
We had excellent weather except for one odd drizzly day. We spent hours and hours outside exploring the garden and backyard; watching the bunnies and lizards (Char had never seen one) and monarch butterflies and all the hummingbirds and other birds that live in the trees. One morning we checked the wildlife camera and saw a bobcat. That’s only happened one other time! Sharing my love for animals is high on the list of what I want my grandma legacy to be.
At the airport, “I miss you already, Grandma. Can we come back in two days, Mommy?” “Miss you, Grandma”, from Char.
Hugs and kisses all around.
Now it’s SO quiet. No children laughing, screaming, no one yelling at the top of his lungs from the highest point in the garden, “GRANDMA, CAN YOU SEE ME?”
Yup. I miss them already for sure, but they’ll be back in a few weeks so I need to REST up.