Sunday at the Shore

I woke up mid-allergy attack at 4:00am this morning. Sneezing, coughing, itchy throat, running nose; the whole nine yards. It was then that I decided that I would go to the beach in the morning. I actually contemplated going to the beach right then, but instead turned on the light and read my book for a bit. When I did wake up for reals, I waited for the coffee to brew and then decided to go to Dunkin' Donuts on my way. I realized yesterday that I am struggling to follow-thru on most anything these days. I blame it on being back to work.

It's cold out today. Cold might be an exaggeration, maybe cool is a better word. Regardless, I threw on a hoodie, a scarf, and some socks. This is my weekend uniform each fall, needless to say, I was a little excited. Fall is amazing up here. It's what northern New Englanders live for nine months of the year. The sky seems closer, the air feels cleaner, and the colors are beginning to show. I took my usual route to the coast and enjoyed a little Maine NPR. (As much as I love NH, Maine always seems to do things just a bit better.) So, today I keep my words to a minimum and share with you my morning through pictures.

(See those yellow flowers? I'm not sure what they are, but I am fairly certain that they are the cause of my daily allergy attacks. I curse them.)

(I confess, I actually took this photo post-"hurricane" last weekend, but it was too pretty not to share with you.)

Breakfast

I'm exhausted after a fun-filled weekend with friends. We engaged in lot's of local activities and did our part to stimulate the local economy. Farmers markets, local festivals, dinner at the best lobster pound, and trips to the beach. Before they embarked on their five hour trip back to the city, I made one last meal for us to enjoy together. I picked up some sticky Cinnamon Swirl Bread from Saturday's market and used it for french toast this morning. I've done this before with another local cinnamon swirl bread, but this loaf surpassed all others. It was gooey and sweet and the perfect thickness. Add a side of bacon and use the maple syrup that you helped to boil down back in the spring and all is well with the world.

Ice Cream Shop

We went out for ice cream in the rain last night. It was lovely, a new shop that opened up on a farm down the road. I think that I would like to live there. Is that weird?

Company

When you live here, you get lots of company. Which I love. It has been key to my mental health since moving away from the city. In truth, I moved here knowing a total of three people who lived within 15 miles. Three is not a lot, especially coming from New York where I had established myself socially and was surrounded by new and old friends on a daily basis. I've learned how much I love being by myself much of the time, but I also realize that all that alone time makes me cherish the time I have when folks come up for a visit.

It's safe to say that I get excited for company. There's a prep to it. As much as I would like you all to think that I live a "company-ready" life, that is not the case. That's mostly because I am lazy and easily distractible. And since I am being honest, I still get a thrill from knowing that I don't have to clean up. See, my mother was one of those folks who maintained an

unbelievably clean house.

I'm talking about permanant vacuum lines in the carpets, needless to say, I have yet to move out of the rebellion phase. Aside from cleaning up the place, I also like to bake up a little something to snack on and there's grocery shopping to do and making sure the guest room isn't too covered in cat hair.

But the extra effort is

usually well worth it. It results in me getting "filled up." I get a chance to reconnect with good friends, enjoy cocktails on the porch, eat lobster by the sea, go bowling, mini-golfing, outlet shopping, swim in the local pond, visit the nearest creamery...

basically, I get to be a tourist in my own home.