Back To The Lake

Last Photo From The Beach: Our Halle And The Pups

I am in  Northern Virginia at the moment, sitting in my daughter Jill's living room, as everyone else sleeps in.  It's raining out, at 5:45,  46º, a stark contrast with our week at the beach. I guess I should be happy with what we had, a glorious week of beach days, blue skies, and sun with the family. 

We took our time leaving Topsail Saturday although we were on our way by 9:30 and check out time was 10:00.  I got in my morning beach walk and by the time I returned, everyone was up except for Halle.  We did not have much to do for the condo, just strip the beds, gather the towels, and make sure the dishwasher was emptied.  We did not bring much so it was easy packing up the car although Drew had a roof carrier and much more to take back than us. 

We left the beach reluctantly but happy that we were able to have a week of great weather, food, and family time.  I tried to keep up with Drew but lost him, probably because of three stops, two for rest areas, and once at the slowest Mc Donald's in Virginia.  We asked why and were told that a few workers never came in.  It took us a good twenty-five minutes to get our meals in the drive-through. Our drive back was boring, much of it on a busy #95 and surprisingly warm, in the '80s for the first couple of hours and cooler when we finally got to Jill's, around 3:45, a six-hour drive as expected.

Because I had a damaged power cord for my Mac,  I drove to Best Buy, 15 minutes away, and was able to buy the last cord.  I was lucky; otherwise, I would have had to drive to Buffalo to the Apple Store on Monday. We were all tired and didn't do much except decide we did not want to fuss with dinner.  Drew and I drove off to Domino's, picked up three mediums, a deal, and we stuffed our faces with pizza and salad.  We watched the often hilarious, raunchy, gross, vulgar (you choose the most appropriate word) Borat movie on Amazon Prime, as he makes fun of conservatives in the United States, including a ridiculous interview with Trump lawyer, Rudy Giuliani. Giuliani is set up, duped, punked, by an attractive female journalist from Kazakhstan. He seems to fawn over the shy journalist, constantly reassuring her by touch, and eventually walks into a bedroom, lies down on the bed, and puts his hand down his pants as the female interviewer sits next to him. Giuliani claims he was readjusting his shirt. How Sasha Baron Cohen manages to insert himself in these situations is the wonder of the film.

We ended the night falling asleep in front of the TV, watching some college football until we made ourselves go to bed, knowing we had a long drive tomorrow.