I spent the day on the beach with my girlfriends.
I'm keenly aware that I'm a woman of privilege -- I have real girlfriends.
The kind you can cry with, be real with, let-your-hair-down-with friends.
I haven't always had a gaggle of girls like this.
Christine has this umbrella thing down to an art form -- see what she brought along? A five-gallon bucket. She used it to carry stuff (sandals, water, book) to the beach, and then filled it with sand to hold the umbrella securely. It never fell over, all day long. Genius. I'm getting a sturdy canvas umbrella before my next beach trip, and using it for the rest of my life.
This interesting fellow brought his paddleboard and paddle to the beach.
We stopped for breakfast at Waffle House before the beach. I hadn't been to a WH since high school, if then. My daddy took me once, I think, because I begged. I love waffles.
Not every woman needs a pack of friends. I've lived years without it. They were serious, hard-working years. Adam says he likes me when I'm with my girlfriends -- I'm more relaxed, more my old, happy, silly self. I've had years of paying such close attention to the hard work of life, that I've usually forgotten how to do silly. It's good to know my silly button still works. Thanks, girls :)