It Happened at the Beach

"Life doesn't get much better than this." That is what I told Mom mid-week during our stay in Garden City/Myrtle Beach, and she agreed. I think at that precise moment I was lying out on the porch in my swimsuit under a cloudless sky (a sky that remained cloudless the entire week), bible in one hand, mango Izze soda in the other, going between reading and sipping; or chatting with one of the other 10 people out there; or watching Eric sketch and then paint the dock, inlet and palm trees in front of us in watercolors.

That was just one perfect moment out of a string of perfect, beautiful days that we didn't let get away (now you know the week's theme song). I've been longing to write about them for a while, but I didn't get the chance while we were there since after I finished 4-6 hours of school for the day, it seemed tragical to do anything but go outside. So the blog has suffered for it, but I've kept most of what I want to write about percolating on the back burner of my mind.

When we first arrived, after a fairly uneventful 13 hour drive, my first reaction was that of the girl from the woodsy hills who has never seen the ocean before. Which is ridiculous considering I've been to the ocean more times than I can count. But it had been a while, and I had forgotten how big it is. The past couple years the world has shrunk a little, in my mind (not sure why. Maybe with Andrew's traveling and doing school online), but the ocean blew it back up and put everything in perspective. My first view of it was when it was high tide, though, so that had something to do with it. When I stepped into the house and looked straight to the back through the wall of windows, the ocean was right there. Less than 20 feet from the house.

That night, we watched the full moon rise blood-orange out of the dark blue sea. We went to bed, and a few hours later awoke to, this time, watch the sun rise out of the sea. We had an Easter service out there on the sand, huddled together in sweatshirts, watching the sky change glowing, happy colors. Jonathan played guitar, we sang a few worship songs, and took turns reading from the last couple chapters of Luke.

I think that ended up being my favorite Easter Sunday yet, and I didn't even miss the ham and mashed potatoes. Celebrating the resurrection with some off-key singing on the early morning beach with my family is good enough for me, on this earth.

Not saying we didn't do some good eating while there. Mr. H cooked practically every meal, if I remember correctly, and they were all delicious...though sometimes Mikaela, Josiah and I would grab the salad fixings when it got too seafoody. One morning, Eric and Maria made crepes filled with Nutella or blackberry jam, another dad did pancakes, and another we had root beer floats (though that was the last morning and it was because we had to finish up the leftovers :).

We definitely ate a lot but there was more than enough exercise to balance it all out. We would go for multiple walks down the beach every day, sometimes having a field trip-like experience with Mr. H as the aquatic wildlife database, other times just goofing off and taking pictures, or other times using them as a conduit for the free flow of deep conversation. Walking and talking go well together.

One walk that we took happened between 11:30 and 12:30 at night. We had finished a movie, and everyone went to go to bed except Maryah, Josiah, Mik, Jonathan and I because we were too wired. So after chewing mint lifesavers with our mouths open in the dark kitchen to get the sparky light effect, we quietly put on our shoes and escaped the house. We walked down the middle of the road until cars became a problem, and then moved to the sidewalk, all the while discussing nefarious plans of how to land ourselves in jail in honor of Friday the 13th. We decided making the plans is much more fun than doing them, and we didn't really want to spend the night in the lockup. So in lieu of committing a crime, we Christmas caroled a house that still had some people hanging out on the porch. They laughed really hard, and were profusely appreciative of our festive efforts.

After walking a mile and a half out, we turned back because we were definitely getting tired. The streets were getting quieter too, and we stopped seeing cars, so it got pretty silent. And creepy, considering it had turned past midnight and become Friday the 13th. So I got really weirded out when something caught at my ankle and made me trip. We retraced our steps, and though I was expecting to find a stick or something, we found nothing. Officially on edge, I continued walking next to Mik. Two minutes later, a hand grabbed my ankle and I screamed. Of course, this time it wasn't an alien--it was Josiah, in typical boy fashion, taking advantage of my being worked up. So even though Andrew wasn't there, I still got to experience something he would have done. Some things will never change...but a little consistency is good, even if it means getting scared out of my mind by the male sex.

The other "active" thing we did while there was rent 2 paddle surfboards for 24 hours. Everyone took turns using them on the inlet, until after supper Josiah and I took them out on the ocean (the inlet was just across the road in front of the house, and the ocean was in the back). That was a whole new ballgame, but a very fun one, seeing as you had to remain balanced even with the swell of the ocean. We paddled way out towards Africa, and with the sky and the waves, the wind and the sun, breathing the rarefied air and living in the adrenaline of a new experience; it was almost too beautiful to be true. We also saw maroon-speckled jellies floating delicately, eerily beneath the clear green-gray surface of the water (locals told us the ocean this week was hardly ever this clear--it was almost Bahamaish). That definitely gave me new incentive not to fall in, but I did several times anyway--and it was really just part of the fun.

Besides, swallowing all the saltwater gave me the excuse to practice my spitting skills, which are all too feminine for my liking (and not at all practical, because when I go for a run I'll spit and it will end up on my shoe). Learning to spit was inspired by Rose in Titanic. We wanted to go see a movie, and I became quite excited when we settled on Titanic, which is one I've been dying to watch for several months, never having seen it. When it came time to go, however, everyone wimped out until all who was left of the theater-going party was Josiah and I. But we went anyway, and the movie was even better than I thought it would be. Absolutely moving, and beautiful, and thought-and-tear-provoking. I'll stick to the lighter side of things though for the sake of the nature of this post, and say I especially liked the scene where Jack teaches Rose to spit. Good times.

I also got in enough twirling and dancing to last me for at least a few days, so perhaps there will be no more embarrassing moments involving the neighbors. Mik, the brilliant ballerina, Maryah and I would have dance parties out on the beach, singing at the top of our lungs, splashing water and twirling in the sand. We would also write poetry in the sand, Mik with her Dickinson and me with my Wordsworth. Isaac wrote "I just wasted 10 seconds of your life" on the beach, and everyone who read it would stop and laugh, and wave toward our house if they put two and two together. Ah yes, and someone from our party wrote "Happy Easter" in the sand, which is the first thing I saw after waking up Easter morning and going outside. We (well, mostly Isaac) also built a number of sand heads in honor of Andrew, and Josiah, Misha and Sanna planted an adorable clam garden.

All in all, it was a wonderful vacation. Life really doesn't get much better than that, especially when you are in a certain financial situation. So here is a blogger shout out to the Hinterberger's: Thank you :).

We got in last night at 11:30, and waking up this morning was really hard. I opened my eyes about 7 since the internal clock is set earlyish, but I rolled over and fell back asleep until 9:30. Then I sat up in bed, fully awake, and wishing I was still asleep. First, because I wasn't waking up next to Mikaela. Second, because the view from my bedroom window was completely gray and brown. Granted, the grass is a little green, but the trees haven't budded! I thought for sure they would have, and it's hard coming back from late spring weather to early spring. Waking up at the beach, I looked out my window and could see a triad of palm trees silhouetted against the ocean and a bright sunrise. You could also hear the waves. Here at home, it is dreary, and the only noise was a lone squawking chicken. But I got out of bed anyway, unpacked, and went down to the cold basement to finish up my school for the week, since I had procrastinated Friday and let school hang. After that I got a shower and washed away the last of the streaky saltwater residue that was left on my legs. Sadness. Then dad showed us videos from the vacation, and some pictures, and everyone keeps saying, "Oh remember..." and "Wasn't it fun when..." and "I laughed so hard when..."

Ugh. Vacation and friend withdrawal. I don't know from experience, but I think it is almost as difficult as quitting a drug.

But life shall move on. The subterm is now half over, so 4 weeks until graduation. There is everything to look forward to.

For the sake of tradition though, since this past week had a theme song, today gets one too, and it's "On the Wing" by Owl City.