We’re back from the Outer Banks, and we had a lovely time. Because there’s not much of anything going on in Duck, NC, it’s the perfect place to do what is so hard for the modern American to do: force yourself to relax. It rained about half the time we were there, so for much of the time we couldn’t even sit on the beach. But it really was the perfect vacation. There was plenty of space in the huge house my parents rented, and my room was comfortable and breezy. The usual beach house furnishings were tasteless but amusing, and included a taxidermied dunes elk and wild marlin. When we weren’t on the beach we were either eating, reading, playing Canasta or The Game of 99, or watching a movie.
The ocean was rougher than I had ever seen it on our many trips to the Outer Banks, and swimming was a treacherous thing to try. The waves were huge and the surf churned relentlessly, leaving a frothy layer on the sand. Yesterday the lifeguards went down the beach putting up red “No Swimming” flags, so even on the sunniest day there was no chance of taking a dip. One of the nights, the house (on stilts) pitched and swayed so much that the dishwasher made a horrible banging noise, and the liquor on the counter sloshed violently in its bottles. NOT a comfortable feeling, even for someone who loves both the beach and rollercoasters.
On the way home, Dan was kind enough to endure a seafood buffet, which is of course one of my chief pleasures in life. The bad thing is that I think I’m developing an allergy to shellfish: my favorite food. Right now it’s just a little itchiness in my throat and my fingertips, which is certainly worth the deliciousness. But why can’t I just be allergic to peanut butter or something else I hate?
Anyway, I was so glad to arrive home and see that Richmond was right where I left it. ❤