I took a momentary break from ditch digging (up to one a day as of late!) and Clara and I took ourselves back to the beach. It was a humble scene wherein we both kept most of our clothing on and did our best to warm up on the rocks as admittedly cold, sandy winds blew away all the visions one might have of us frolicking in the waves under the hot summer sun. I was told recently that the interior climate here rivals Southern California while the coast mirrors Northern. This notion was prattled off to me quickly, with the sense that there is apparently science to back this claim, I couldn't replicate the details if I tried....but, guess what, it actually seems true. In any case, it's beautiful and, as always, just being near the ocean and the sound of the waves is (almost) enough for me.
On this particular trip, we decided to take a leisurely journey to the top of the cliffs to see the town and there we enjoyed the view you see above, a plate of olives, and delicous Portuguese beer. This, by the way, cost me less than one euro, which basically means that I love Portugal.
In any case, this Memorial Day seems to be one of a very small handful of occasions celebrated back in New York that I can actually feel nostalgic for. The internet is making it all the easier to see the sunny fun going on without me; memories of Quogue, and friendship, and cold rosé on the porch are swirling. I can't exactly be jealous in the midst of my own current dream life, note, but it's a little sentimental to be sure.
Back at the homestead, it was business as usual. The top of the window frame that I neglected to white wash this morning, another dozen boxes of old tiles to move up to the storage garage. Joao is making quick progress building the greenhouse, Nubia's School inches along. The kickoff to the busy summer here happened long ago, this was just another Monday sans fanfare, but, as always, filled with its own kind of festive good vibes that I am forever grateful for.
Cheers to the summer, wherever we all are.