One of my homeschooler groups organized beach days, but so far, most of the people involved have wussed out on going to the beach unless it’s truly hot. But this Tuesday, I was going to go to the beach, rain or shine, with or without anyone else.
So we ended up being the only people to go from our group, and even a friend of Neil’s cancelled at the last minute. However, if you’re lucky, you can always find some beach buddies, and near us were a bunch of boys who also had sturdy shovels and were willing to help Neil with his favorite beach project: excavation.
The seaweed was thick and heavy both on the beach and in the ocean, which made wading kind of treacherous. Imagine long stringy weeds wrapping themselves around your knees and ankles and trying to pull you in whenever the waves retreat. It didn’t stop Kelly, of course.
At one point, Neil was creating a moat to tease the ocean, and the ocean didn’t like it. It sent out a huge wave which swallowed Neil’s shovel just as he was jumping back to avoid getting wet. It looked like that shovel was lost for good: we couldn’t see it anywhere. Neil and I walked up and down the shore, hoping to see it washed ashore, or bobbing in the waves, but it was no where to be seen. So we ate our lunch and I wondered how I’d be able to replace that shovel, which was a very nice one which one of the homeschoolers had given me just because her child had been touching our plastic dollar store shovel when it disintegrated.
I mentally apologized to the ocean, and the next thing I knew, I saw the shovel, washing up almost at my feet. I grabbed it, to the cheers of my children and the group they’d been playing with. Then we decided not to push our luck any further, and we went home, with a stop for beach ice cream (a Peter-founded tradition) on the way home.