Right now it’s cold, rainy and just plain yucky outside. It’s only March and already, I’m counting down the days until the Wentworths head to the beach. Already I can see the drive down there… Mom and Matt and I usually go down on Sunday afternoon after church since Sundays are pretty important for our jobs. Mom will be driving her red convertible singing at the top of her lungs. Several hours later as the humidity is creeping up and my hair becomes increasingly curly with every passing mile, we arrive at the beach house. Hugs abound and the smell of salty air holds a hint at the week to come.
And then… there are the dinners. Some people love the beach for the sun and the waves. While I think both are pretty cool, it’s what comes out of those waves that interests me most. Dinners with the Wentworths are not 30 minute meals (even though my dad loves Rachael Ray :).
Instead, we all shower and clean up from the salt and sunscreen and gather in the kitchen. Instantly, my favorite smells wash over me… guacamole with the essential lemon pepper, grilled fish caught that morning, fried calamari, and the smell of crab boil rising from the pot of boiled shrimp the size of my palm… my personal favorite. I sit down with a BIG bowl and spicy cocktail sauce and I can think of nothing better… but wait, I hear the sound of homemade ice cream churning… ah, paradise! Only 107 more days.