good for what ails me.

time at the beach. it's good for the soul, i think.

the beach is therapy. we went straight to the outer banks from my grandmother's funeral the summer of 2002. my mom said floating in the ocean soothed her because, despite the fact my grandma had been waiting for death for 3 years before, she was still my mother's mother. we drank the wine the flight attendant had given me for my loss.

my dad and i flew out to mom's hometown together, since my sisters would fly from dc and my mother was already there. i got up mid-flight to use the facilities and got chatted up by the flight attendant. so,where are you from? virginia what takes you to colorado? actually, a funeral. oh, i'm sorry for your loss. are you 21? uh, no. i was going to offer you a bottle of wine with our sympathies. are you traveling with anyone? so he came over later and presented my dad with a bottle of wine. my dad gave me a funny look. i just shrugged.

the real irony of it all is my mom's side of the family are right-wing, ultra-conservative Christians who don't drink. grandma was the president of the colorado chapter of the WCTU (women's christian temperance union). we had to discuss which members of the family would find the story funny (cousins c & g), and which members (aunt v) we would most certainly not tell lest their judgment ensure we spend all eternity damned to hell. the more my dad and i told the story, the more it was about grandma sending us a message hey guys! turns out it's ok! and the flight attendant thinking i was cute (dad's spin).

anyway. this is supposed to be about the beach.

today is memorial day, the official start of summer. summer has always been the best time of my life. too much time in the southeast has thinned my scandinavian blood and made me a hot weather person. give me 90 degrees (what is the html for the little degree bubble?) over 20 degrees any day.