*Reporting Live From Ipperwash Beach*
We called an audible this morning and decided to try to shoot for a visit to an aunt’s place, the better part of three hours away, that this time didn’t involve clearing out more of my mother’s storage locker.
Instead, it would be a visit to get to the beach without undue stress to hurry up and have fun because we’re on a timeline to get back home again, and also to do a little poking around a nearby beach town (entirely too tourist trappy but still kind of fun to poke around in a bit) and hopefully have an overall more enjoyable, relaxing visit with my aunt.
I didn’t exactly jump at the suggestion, because I’m something of a reluctant beach-goer. By which I mean I’m a largely reluctant beach-goer. Or… beach prepper, more accurately.
I like being there once I’m there, but am usually as happy on the sand reading a book as actually going into the water. Whereas J and the kid have always been water babies and go to a beach with the clear intention of getting into the water.
… but the prep to go there for any length of time and the hauling in and back out of various bags and chairs and the big umbrella, etc., is never not a little off-putting a notion to start with.
I appreciate the “It’s about the journey and not the destination” sentiment, but in these cases it’s exactly wrong.
But. I got here after reluctantly changing to get into the water, got progressively into the cold (yeah, okay… refreshing) lake, and once my body made the adjustment, it was… yeah, okay, I was genuinely happy to be there and be cooling down from our gross heat wave.
Chalk up one for the water babies.