Yesterday, I took a day off. I had my voice lesson in the morning, and we hit a small brewery in Ventura for lunch.
Then we headed for the beach. We stopped at the beach in Summerland, just south of SB and spent several hours walking and vegging. Not many people on the beach, and while it’s not my favorite beach–I’d have had to drive all the way to Pacific Grove or Moss Beach north of Half Moon Bay–it’s quiet, and that counts for a lot.
Spent a lot of time staring at the incoming waves and enjoying the single goose (because I can’t believe an egret would indulge in such behavior) belly surfing on the receding waves and then diving under the incoming ones and letting them wash him closer to shore. Repeat.
I also loved watching the large group of godwits poking beaks into wet sand to feed. But by five, I was ready to leave and we headed home to a dinner and a movie.
I should do this more often, although today I am tired and unable to con myself into finishing the schoolwork I have to do. And Monday will be tense when I have to pull it all together at the last minute. I also disappointed one small child, who mournfully told his/her mom that it was Mrs. Sisolak’s birthday on Friday, and she didn’t want to spend it with him/her.
Still, it was an excellent start to the latest decade, and I saw the old one out by soloing at St. Max on. I guess my goal for my sixties is to terrify myself regularly–and prove to myself that I don’t fall flat on my face in doing so.
I discovered my brother in Stamford, CT actually texts–and provides more information that way than in a regular phone call. He did call last Sunday to say goodbye, just in case, and when I texted him to see if he was still alive, he typed his fingers to pieces. (Relatively. His infrequent emails are one and two liners.) Mom said he spoke an amazing twenty-five minutes to her, so the storm had more of an impact than we thought. :P
In not so happy news, Harley’s symptoms reappeared this week, and we’ve upped his meds.