It feels like my blog has become a non-stop promo fest and I have to admit that I've grown a little frustrated with that. I'm sure you have to. I don't want you to miss out on cool deals and all the free stuff and inexpensive stuff that I have churned out for the Asylum Tales series. But really ... you'd probably like to hear about something different, right?
So... this past weekend, the Other Half and I looked around our new place and discovered that all the boxes are unpacked (well, all the ones that can be unpacked. I still need to get a new bookshelf and a new desk). We finally have all the basic essentials of life -- a new mop, broom, groceries, kitty litter box, etc. With a gleeful shout, we decided that we deserved a break. We went in search of our local beach.
We jumped in my car with a backpack filled with bottles of water, sunscreen, and beach towels. After a short distance, we were briefly stopped by a drawbridge as several large boats floated down the canal separating us from the beachfront. We chuckled to each other as we were more accustomed to being stopped at train tracks rather than a raised drawbridge, but we enjoyed the newness of the experience.
Less than five minutes later, we pulled into a small parking lot and began the short trek back to the quiet public beach where the waves were crashing into the shore. Lounging on the white sand, I slathered on a thick layer of sunscreen and just listened to the surf and the seagulls overhead. It was sunny and 82 degrees on Sunday, February 1, and I was in a bathing suit on the beach. It was like this strange dream. Some part of my brain kept arguing that I was on vacation and another part of my brain kept claiming that it was June. So with a sigh, I shut my brain down and let myself relax.
We didn't lounge long, but packed up after my O.H. got his base tan started and took a nice walk down the beach along the water's edge. The water was a little cool but we quickly got accustomed to it. I wasn't brave enough to go wading far into the water as there was a dangerous marine life warning. Apparently Portuguese Man O' Wars had drifted in the area and many were washed up on the beach. I really didn't want to bring my relaxing day to a painful end with the sting of that poor creature so I walked very carefully.
After less than two hours, we wandered down the beach and back to the car. I had a book that needed my attention. I've been neglecting Gage far too much in all the move, but with the unpacking done and the apartment starting to feel more like a home, I can ease back into the wonderful world of Asylum Tales again as well as some new stories. I wonder what kind of an influence living in South Florida will have on my new stories. I think it's going to be interesting.