Going to the Beach-The Good, the Bad, and the Psycho

Ok, as promised some stories. first of all I have to tell you what an ordeal it was to even leave my house. Back in June the transmission on my van died. After two weeks in the shop it came home with a rebuilt transmission. Less than 24 hours later it went right back to the mechanic because it was leaking tranny fluid. The morons mechanics failed to replace the pan gasket. Mr. Lime departed with his truck before I ever got my van back. When I was told my van was finally ready I found a ride to the mechanic's. Upon my arrival there was a mad scramble to locate my keys. They could not find my keys. Even after they tried damn near every key they had in the place even when I told them it was not MY key they were trying. Finally, as I stood there watching, it was determined they had left my key in the ignition...clicked "on." Ergo, my battery was completely dead. they jumped the thing and off I went with instructions to let them check the car again in a couple of days. For the next two days every time I tried to start the car it protested. when I took it back I mentioned this. They changed the battery terminal clamps. It started. The next morning, the morning I planned to leave for my much needed beach vacation, I went to my car turned the key and got NOTHING. I muttered curses against the mechanics and their forefathers before calling AAA to jump my battery. While waiting for AAA to arrive I called the mechanic and said, "Good morning, this is Michelle DeLime. I have paid you absurd amounts of money in the last two weeks to have cars that run but this morning I have a very dead battery. A battery I paid you to replace just two months ago, so it is still under warranty. Also, you and I both know it is your fault the battery is dead. I am waiting for AAA to come jump it, then I will be bringing it to you to replace the battery immediately BECAUSE I AM GOING ON VACATION TODAY." I got some song and dance about them possibly not having the correct battery in stock. I reminded them I drive a 2000 Caravan, not exactly a rare model, they will find me a proper battery NOW! AAA came and a very pleasant fellow got me going and wished me well. I drove off to the mechanic, handed him my key with a glare that said they damn well better not loose my key and they better not make me wait too long and said I'd just park my carcass right there while they sorted things out. Fifteen minutes later I drove off with a new battery. If they'd have given me one second of crap or so much as tried to suggest I owed them one cent more I was prepared to get in touch with my inner Attila the Hun. Honey, I was sooooo ready to hit the beach.

I returned home, packed the car and off we went only slightly delayed. I picked up Isaac's friend who would be accompanying us and dropped Calypso at my mother's (C had no interest in spending several days in a small cottage with 5 other people, 2 of whom were 12 year old boys). When we finally arrived at the river beach we all changed and headed right to the water where my folks were already floating in the water. I told them my tale of automotive hell and then felt the water rinse all the stress downstream into the bay. Aaaaahhhhh....a few more hours of floating and then reading on the beach followed by a dinner I didn't have to cook and copious amounts of wine and I felt like a brand new woman.

The next day was a real treat when I got to have lunch with the lovely Embee. Now she has a post up second guessing her hostessing abilities but I have to say I found her completely charming, warm, and open. We had a very leisurely and delicious lunch and I so enjoyed the opportunity to spend time with her and met her face to face. Embee, it was a real pleasure and I'd like to thank you. I'd love to get together with you again the next time I make an escape in your direction or if you find yourself in my neck of the woods.

Our "schedule" at the beach is totally laid back. Sleep late, eat breakfast and lunch in our jammies, head to the beach until we watch the sun dip below the horizon, come home, make dinner and bathe, play games, drink, and laugh our butts off with other family members who have their own cottage but come to visit after hours. I don't think we went to bed before 1 AM or rose before 10 AM the whole time. Often it was later on both ends. Bliss.

(When they weren't in the water this is what the boys did. Well, this or bury each other, or dig holes, or beg for ice cream. It's all good.)

July 4th night I earned some cool mom points when I pulled out a trash bag full of pyrotechnics and let the boys set them off for the assembled audience. Oh yeah, I had enough stuff to blow up for a couple of hours. Much fun. Happy audience. Happy boys. Happy mom. Sorry no pictures. I was busy making sure no one blew a finger off.

The psycho part of this total relaxation was Saturday morning when the mother of Isaac's friend popped in uninvited and unannounced. Mind you this was a FOUR HOUR DRIVE. The boys were still asleep. Heck, I had only just rolled my butt out of bed even though it was 10:30 AM. The woman expected the boy to call her three times a day and he obliged her. I was just barely cordial to her. Well, ok, maybe I didn't even attain that level of civility. My father, who would just as soon say "Fuck off" as "How do you do?," informed me if looks could kill I'd be charged with this woman's murder and that I was a bit rude. Admittedly he told me this with his own thinly veiled pride but still, I think the polarity of the earth must have temporarily reversed because he was far more polite than I ever considered being to this woman. She felt the need to stroll through the cottage and inspect everything before she sat on her son's bed and bounced gently while stroking his leg. When it became clear the boy was not going to wake up (and may I say the Academy Award goes to this kid for feigning unconsciousness and who could blame him) and I was not going to extend an invitation for her to stay (given there was exactly one sleeping space left, which would have been sharing my bed, and no floor space for even an air mattress, oh and given that she is a nutjob control freak who felt the need to drive 4 hours to check on her son who had called her thrice daily and who would be home the very next day while passing it off as if she just happened to be in the neighborhood...uh yeah, and I look like Heidi Klum when I put on a string bikini.) she finally departed after about 15 minutes. If you think I am being hard on her let me say when I rolled into the boy's driveway Sunday evening the father AND the college age sister ran out and the first words out of their mouths was a very contrite apology for being unable to prevent the Flight of the Lunatic.

Back to the river that afternoon after dad took us all (minus the nutjob) to a really nice restaurant for a lovely lunch. Tell the river all my frustrations and let them wash down to the bay. Aaaaaaaahhhhhh.....all better. Watch the sunset, devour a couple more books, take a nice stroll on the lovely beach, take some pictures, eat an easy dinner, play some games, and laugh, and let the libations flow...yeah, that's more like it.



Sunday was the only day the weather didn't cooperate to get to the beach since we had thunder storms but that was ok. It helped us feel less bummed about leaving. The rest of the time the weather was great and the water was perfect so I can't complain. I'm just anxious to go back...aaahhhh.....Have I mentioned how much I love going there and how relaxing it is and what a nice time we all had and how thankful I am to my stepmother for handing me my very own key to the place? Aaaaaahhh....



Tomorrow is Wednesday so you know that means something weird (good weird, not psycho weird) about the beach so tune in....