This past weekend I escaped away to the beach with my brother, brother-in-law, and soon to be sister-in-law. Looking back, I am tempted to say that I don’t know where this summer went. How is it almost september, almost time to go back to school, almost time for busy weekends and more responsibilities? Except, I know where all the summer has gone. It went to Kentucky and to Paris, to pain-killers and to car shopping, to visits from loved ones. It was wonderful, and I am blessed to even be able to have the luxury of a summer — thank you Academia.
The next two weekends I am out of town and then studying regains control of my Saturdays. So this last weekend, we slipped out of the city and headed towards the seashore in Delaware. I couldn’t have told you anything about Delaware before Saturday, and it is one of those states like Rhode Island and Vermont where my geography breaks down and I’m not entirely sure where it is. All I had heard was that there were some great beaches.DELAWARE I AM SO SORRY AND I TAKE IT ALL BACK. You are glorious. We stopped for some Chick-fil-a breakfast [Insert moment of silence where I stare off into the distance and think about those chicken minis that I rarely make it early enough to get.] and some Delaware locals heading to DC warned us about the terrible traffic. Instead, they recommended some back roads that took us through the stunning countryside, tiny towns, and about a million garage sales. Which we obviously stopped at and rolled into the beach with a coffee table and side table in the trunk of my car. BEACHES AND BARGAINS. Paradise.
What was not paradise was trying to find parking at Dewey Beach. After driving around for a while, I finally just asked a friendly women doing yard-work if we could park in her driveway for the day and she kindly let us. Paradise restored. Then off to the beach with some of my favorite people! And a whole lot of sunscreen because I glow in the dark and have a deep fear of skin cancer.
That girl there? I GET TO BE RELATED TO HER. My baby brother couldn’t have chosen a better lady to marry. I think I’ll just go jump for joy. And then I will enlist others into my jump shot, because you know how I feel about it. [I also debated long and hard about putting these pictures up because, you know, they feature thighs of much less than model quality. But then I decided that maybe we all need a little more acceptance and glorification of normal bodies.] After quite a few failed jumpshots, a “kind” soul on the beach took to critiquing us as we jumped and offering pointers. Very helpful. When we had finally cooked ourselves to a nice splotchy pink, we left the beach and headed to a shaved-ice stand between a grungy crab shack and a gas station. Yes, we are the classiest beach goers you ever did see. But seriously, that shaved ice was good, and Richard, the shaved ice chef, made us samples of almost all the flavors before we ordered. Richard also had to give us a tutorial in eating crabs, as our zeal to whack away at a crab did not come with any practical knowledge. I might have eaten some gills before Richard swooped in, pulled a knife out of his back pocket, and cleaned our crab for us.
This is a food that my landlocked native southern self just doesn’t know how to approach and I can’t eat shellfish without thinking of Jim Gaffigan’s routine on seafood. But they are so pretty that it was worth a try. Plus, it kind of seemed like summer itself: something so beautiful that you try to scrape out every last bit.How are you spending these last weekends of summer?