The beach cottage is 600 square feet, but its design seems to keep that a secret. Tall ceilings with quiet fans that spin lazily in the warm summer air give you a feeling of vast, open space. With central air, elegant paint and furnishings representative of a Pottery Barn summer catalogue spread, this is far from the "family summer cabin" days I spent as a kid. Back then, the summer cottage was a log cabin in Minnesota with no running water and sleeping quarters in a tiny attic space. But now, thanks to the generosity of friends, the idea takes on a whole new (and far more luxurious) meaning.
The weather is perfect -- warm but not stifling. The rain and thunder rolls in surprisingly on our schedule, giving us the ability to be outdoors as we wish, and making the perfect moment arrive for VB's fist film experience -- complete with a darkened living room and "The Little Mermaid" on DVD. Vast amounts of popcorn is consumed as the rain does what it needs to outside, leaving just in time for our next outdoor adventure.
What adventures the outdoors bring -- a zoo alive with baby bears and kangaroos that give VB plenty to talk about. Mini-golf that gives VB a taste of his grandfather's favorite past time.
And the beach -- gone is the vision of the crowded, muggy, sun-screen smelling environment I despise. Instead the vast ocean greets us with minimal company but the seagulls and waves. Decked out in sun-proof swimwear and with our sun-proof tent for shadowy afternoon naps, I am free to listen to the waves and stand on the rocks staring at the horizon, which shows itself in my favorite shade of blue. VM frolics in the ocean, while VB smiles and digs and laughs and plays.
The moments are perfect, like a string of rare jewels.
Now I know what vacation feels like.