I thought about committing suicide, but in Buffalo, suicide is redundant.
-- A Chorus Line --
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On Saturday morning we awoke to fog. And voices. And the boom of feet on boards. When I went out, this is what I saw:
There were thousands of them, and they kept passing for hours. They were running from Asbury Park (next town to the north) to a few miles south, then back again, and then turned around and did it several more times. Some were running a 5K, some were running a half marathon. Some were running alone, some were running as teams, some were passing a baton to team members at each end (relay?). Some people were still running at 1 pm.
I wanted to stick a number on the Nugget and take her for a walk on the boardwalk. That would have been funny.
The fog cleared, and it turned into a nice but windy day. I stayed at the hotel while Nugget took her midday nap and her parents went window shopping. Nugget woke up before they got back, so she and I snuck out to the beach. It was Nugget's first sand.
We walked down the stairs from the boardwalk to the sand, and she took three barefoot steps on the sand, was surprised by the texture, plopped down, and checked it out. She was fascinated by how she couldn't hold a handful. The way it blew away as it sifted through her fist. The way it was so easy to dig in it. The way you could bury your feet by kicking them, and then find them again.
She found a flattish piece of shell and dug with that. Buried it. Dug it up again.
The wind was helpful. I turned her with her back to the wind, and the wind kept the sand out of her face.
We were still sitting there when Daughter and Hercules returned to the hotel, found us gone, and called my cell in a panic. They came down, we played a little more, Nugget demonstrated the special properties of sand for them, and then they decided to carry her to the water.
The waves are really far from the boardwalk. I declined to walk that far on soft sand, so they went without me. They returned pretty quickly, actually, with Nugget half naked wrapped in a jacket, and Daughter looking panicked.
When they got to the wet sand, easier to walk on, they had set the Nugget down. She hit the ground running and was waist deep in a wave before they caught her. Cold cold water, wind.
Back at the hotel Hercules and the Nugget found a cabinet in the lobby filled with ancient board games. Nugget's favorites were the dominoes and the playing cards.
We left Sunday about 11:30 am, and I was home by noon.
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Nugget's friend Sky had visited for the birthday party, and earlier Saturday a little girl named Rain had come into the lobby with her parents. Sky and Rain?** I feel like I have to make it clear that "Nugget" is not my granddaughter's name. Her name is a respectable old name.
** That might actually be Skye and Rayne or whatever fancified spelling. Same thing....
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