It's early evening and the setting sunlight is low and golden here on Galveston Island. Two hours ago, we arrived for our five days at a beach house in Pointe West Galveston that Charlie Bean pronounced , "Awesome" with a great big smile on his face. He was the first one to try out the hammock. This place is awesome indeed for me too. For perhaps different reasons than for Charlie's take on the place. More on that in a later post.
For thirty minutes, we carried heavy bags and coolers of foodstuffs up two flights of stairs to a kitchen that seems to have just about every appliance one might ever want. Two blenders, so I can make cold raw soups with all those cucumbers and zuccini I brought. This is a home away from home.
We are ensconced much closer to San Luis Pass than to Galveston. I suspect we'll stay at the house and play on the beach the entire time we are here and may never go into Galveston at all. So long, Moody Gardens, Gaido's and The Strand. And that's perfectly OK.
The warm breeze is brisk and feels good. From the upper deck and my bedroom window, I can see tiny slices of both the gulf and the bay. What developer master planned this beachfront community, I wonder? I also hear the children returning from their first beach adventure. I did not go with them on this adventure. I'd had enough adventure - or, let me rephrase that - enough stimulation for one day.
I stayed at the beach house, totally alone, closed my bedroom door and lay down. That is, until I climbed the flight of stairs, yet once again, to pour a glass of limeade and poach a half dozen yogurt pretzels from the box on the kitchen counter.
I am tired. Young children demand so much. Their racket is constant, their questions insistent, their cries for 'mom' unending. It was ever thus. I hearken back to my own days of raising three daughters. I remember the frustration of never finishing a sentence without interruption. Conversations with friends were traded in fragments or one could lose the entire train of thought.
This afternoon, our car was stuffed when we left Houston at 3:00. Caroline packed well and juggled dozens of must-have items throughout the car. She, herself, in the front passenger seat was surrounded with a new boxed toy, my laptop bag, my crochet bag and her purse. The areas around the kid's car seats were crammed too and when we opened Lulu's door things tended to fall out. The kids duffel bag was bungeed on to the roof. Consumer vagabonds.
We stopped at a Subway in Jamaica Beach which was a smart thing to do. We were all hungry, it was 5:00 p.m. and the kid's and frankly, I too, got a boast of energy just in time for carrying umpteen bags up into this beach house. Just keep in mind. The kitchen is on the second floor. Here's a photo of barefoot Lulu at Subway. A commentary on Subway's floors?
By the way, Caroline tells me that the first excursion to the beach was great. The beach is wonderful. That's good news. I await the morning.