We found a lovely beach on the Sound and the water was terrific.  I went for a run on the beach which was punctuated by calls and emails re: deals happening (or not happening) at the office.  Those on the phone could hear the soothing sound of the sea.  Good for them.  Really, good for them.

We all went in the water and splashed around and I led my son around on his boogie board.  My partner and I traded off being in the water, so she could relax and I could email the office.  Not a bad deal, really, given the circumstances.  My son was so happy that my heart swelled.  Once that happens, you know that something will happen to deflate that happy feeling.  Wait for it . . . wait . . . here it comes: my son decided that he would disobey us and go into the water alone instead of playing with his trucks in the sand as he had promised.  Luckily, even with his promises, we keep him under visual surveillance. I sprinted into the water and picked him up in a fireman’s carry and brought him to the beach.  I spoke to him in that scary way that my dad would speak to us if we did something really bad.  I hope my son was scared.  I was. And I will have a backache.

Then he took to throwing stones.  Apparently, he doesn’t plan on living in a glass house.  But I needed to use Dad’s way of stern talking again. 

We decide to drive a little, looking for a farmer’s market more true to its name than others we have found to date.  A little hard on the backroads but we find it.  More produce, more Hamptons prices.   This is an alien nation within the continental United States.  And the dollar exchange rate is not great.

Now we are back at the beach house.  We are watching Life of Mammals with David Attenborough (this episode, sea mammals).

All is Eden again.  Except I have to look at my blackberry.  I may send out an email that I am taking a nap.  Maybe that would be a career limiting mistake.

My partner is relaxing, too.  She just wants to make potato salad today and is leaving things unchopped in the fridge.  Did I need to mention that she brought her own cutting knives?  Hey, if chopping is therapeutic, you don’t just go to anyone’s doctor.

Even with the work intrusions, vacation is a necessary break from our usual fast-paced lives.  It can be a physical staycation our couchcation (as my brother-in-law prefers), but it needs to be a mental vacation (and blogcation).

This was a boring entry.  Isn’t that great?  No real epic episodes (so far).  Now we just have to be ok with the relative calm.  Calm could be a problem.  Is there a pharmacologist nearby?