Wednesday, August 31, 2011

a one-day vacation (lyn)

Valerie calls.  “Hey, do you want to come out and go to the beach?”  Since Irene passed through, the weather has been magnificent.

My sister belongs to a beach club in Long Island.  I’ve been many times; it’s a great place with a good snack bar and a perfect view of the Atlantic.  I remember going a few years ago and feeling like the plumpest person on the beach.  I was embarrassed to leave my beach chair, once I settled in.  Not to mention how hard it was to get out of my beach chair.

I wear a tiny denim, size 6 Theory skirt.  I remember buying it at a small west side boutique, many years ago.  I also remember almost giving the skirt away during one of my closet binges, as I thought I’d never fit into it again.  But I liked it too much.  Today I wear it over my bathing suit, and head to the train.  It may be a little short, but it’s summer after all.

The aftermath of Irene is apparent as we drive through my sister’s beautiful neighborhood.  Trees lay slumped on many sidewalks.  Many of the beach clubs are closed.  My sister’s club is one of the few that are open.

We set up a few feet from the water.  Or more precisely, we are set up a few feet from the water.  Cabana boys are the best things about beach clubs.  "Here will be fine, Jared, and you can set up the umbrellas behind us though I doubt we'll be using them."  And then when we are ready to leave, we need only grab our beach bags; everything else stays behind.  The chairs and umbrellas are lifted, carried, and put away by the cabana boys.  It's a lovely system.

The beach to our right and left is unpopulated.  A rare sight on this typically crowded landscape.  

For the first time in years, my sister and I look similar in size, even in bathing suits.  Maybe not quite as toned as in 1972, but not bad considering our ages.



I take out my book, The Quest for Anna Klein, and get lost in it.  I walk the beach.  We eat a big lunch (described as a healthy chicken salad wrap, though I doubt there is anything healthy about it).

Around five, we leave.  I go back to my sister’s where we later meet my brother-in-law.  Dinner is at a local restaurant called The Fishery; it too is on the water, casual, and excellent.

I arrive home around 10:30, feeling like I’ve been gone for a week.

I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.


  1. Anonymous2:24 PM EDT

    there is no way you are 60!

  2. you ever wrote this...thank you, thank you, thank you.