Beach Week

I've mentioned that I like wild grass and that I like drift wood. Well, in sorting through our 26,000 photographs these past few days, I've happened across a picture I snapped a few years ago that shows both.

I've always loved this photograph, because it reminds me of the many fun boat trips our family's taken across Kachemak Bay. We'd anchor my dad's boat just off the beach, drive in on the little Zodiak, and spend the afternoon hiking and beachcombing. Toward evening, we'd build a campfire and roast hot dogs and marshmallows.

We haven't been able to go the last couple of years, because my dad piloted his boat across the Gulf of Alaska to fish in Southeast waters. "Thanks for nothing, Dad! You've ruined my summers!" screamed the ungrateful daughter, as she stomped her feet and shook her fists in the air. "Why do you have to go and make a living? WHY?!"

Dinner last night: spaghetti and meatballs, steamed green beans

If Looks Could Kill

While hiking around the beach the other day, I came across a rock wall that I thought might make an interesting backdrop for a picture of the girls. I sat my two oldest daughters down in front of it and asked them to smile.

Bad idea. Let's separate everybody and try this again.

This child wouldn't stop laughing and goofing around.

This child refused to say cheese. Still irritated with her older sister for some injustice or another, I'm guessing.

This child wanted nothing to do with me, the camera,

or the stinkin' rock wall.

Finally!

One out of four ain't bad.

Dinner last night: barbecue chicken, potato salad

Shades of Grey

We hiked around a rocky beach over the weekend. The day was overcast but warm, although it's always a tad breezy at the water's edge.

The tide was out, exposing the mud flats.

She looks so lonely, doesn't she? She actually just ran down to the water to rinse the mud off her shoes.

I'm surprised this picture is clear since my hands were shaking, along with my voice, as I shrieked at my husband to "Get her!"

Whew! They made it to the top . . .

and now it's time to roll rocks off the cliff.

There's something about wild grass. I just like it.

I also hold a spot in my heart for driftwood

— or should I say drift trees? —

that years of water and wind have bleached out.

Right as we were climbing back into the car to head home, the sun came out. Still no color, but at least the water is sparkling now.

Dinner last night: pork chops, stuffing, mushroom gravy, steamed broccoli