As I child, I spent my school holidays at my grandmothers cottage and practically lived on this beach. The white sand, clear water and crashing waves were the epitome of summer. We swam until our skin turned pruney, ate our weight in canteen french fries and beach-combed tirelessly. At suppertime we trotted, barefoot and towel-wrapped like urchins, back along the road to the cottage. Salty, scratchy bathing suits were hung on the clothesline at the end of each long day and were pulled back on the next morning before the dew had time to dry. I made a trip to the beach last week and saw that my nephews are falling for this place too. They are fascinated by the water and impervious to the cold of the Atlantic. I did see one sign that their generation has its own take on beach games. They play Don't Let the Wave Touch You but in their version you get two lives and when the waves gets ya, you lose one.
In homage to the 40th Anniversary of Woodstock we have erected a small stage in our front garden. I still have to install the speakers...Didn't buy that? You're right it is the progress shot on the front porch project of 2009. I still think the stage thing is a good idea.
1 comment:
Your description of childhood summers brought me right back to my own. There is nothing better than summer's spent in sun and sand and salt water- putting on the still damp bathing suit the next morning to happily do it all over again.
Porch project progress photos - very interesting. I do hope you'll post lots - all the many subtle changes that make up one big transformation.
+ lovely shot of Miss J - Miss W says
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