Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Progress, Process and the Beach

Monday scene
All of the angst over the computer issues has worn me down so I've been at the beach.  Let me say how much that beach helped my brain relax.  Sun and ocean does wonders for the psyche, my psyche anyway.

Sunday was a beautiful day at Pt. Lookout Beach.  My sister, my mom and I went and met up with Son #1 and Gorgeous DIL (daughter-in-law).  The sun was out, there was a nice breeze, we talked, laughed, and generally had a nice day.  Monday, Labor Day, I visited the beach again with just my sister.  People must have been on vacation or away for the day because it was pretty empty beach for a holiday.  We chose a nice spot with good space all around us and plopped ourselves down.

Have you seen the stuff people have been bringing to the beach lately?  I want to know where they stash all of that during the winter?  And what's with those carts?  Gorgeous pointed them out to me and we were counting them.  I don't know about you, but I used to take my kids to the beach with an umbrella and a bag with my stuff.  My kids held their beach toy or a pail and shovel.  Done!  There must have  been a sale at Costco and everyone bought that Wheelie cart thing.

After sitting in our choice spot on the beach for a little while, a couple of people show up in front of us and assess the space.  My sister and I looked at each other thinking the same thing:  Of all the space on the beach, are these people really going to sit right here in front of us practically touching our toes?  Very nice.  They don't even look at us.  After the first two people came a band of ten people! All thinking this is a very nice spot to park themselves, two inches from our feet!  I said we need to move.  My sister said let them sit on our feet and she'll show them who's boss!  Look, I'm not interested in trouble, I just want to spend a nice day at the beach.  At my urging she grudgingly got up and we move away from that crowd of annoying, no conscience people.  I thought about it too late, but I should have taken their picture for my post!  Rats!

Okay, we settled down again and try to relax.  I just can't help but ogle all manner of tattoos and belly rings on people.  Sorry, but I can't stop looking if it's all out there.

Then a swoop of seagulls came and dive bombed all the people in our new spot.  Some guy had thrown his kid's french fries on the beach, full of ketchup, so the gulls could eat them.  Not a nice move mister.  People were annoyed, kids were crying.  My sister heard the guy tell his kid, "Now we made the seagulls very happy".  Well what about the human people?  Nobody around this guy was very happy that the seagulls were happy!  Give me a break.

Tuesday scene

Tuesday I sneaked off to the beach by myself.  It was the first day of school and NOBODY was there, except a few people scattered around.  Just me, myself, and I.  I brought lunch and my watercolors, my chair and a drink.  What else did I need?  After enough relaxing I felt like painting something, but there were no shells or rocks.  I was too shy to ask some little kids and their mothers if I could borrow the horse-shoe crab they found, so I decided to paint my sandal in the sand instead.  Progress, process, artist's date, and I'm back in business.


  1. So envious of your day at the beach! I love your flip flop- and I am really glad that I am not the only one who finds horse shoe crabs not creepy! So cool and prehistoric looking- I have a small delicate shell in one of my shell jars.

  2. Oh you have a shell jar? I need to do something like that to house the sea shells I collect! Great idea, Sheryl. I loved my day at the beach.

  3. I really like your painting and the beach, too. It must be wonderful to be able to go any old time. Everyone has their "relaxation, peace, escape, me time" spot. Mine's the backyard, looking at my garden and the woods beyond. But, come winter...sorry, but just not the same.

  4. I know what you mean Therese. I really enjoy my garden too, but it's just not the same as getting away somewhere.


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