back at the beach again

Can't stop, won't stop.

We worked our buns off on Saturday. Ryan woke up extra early and took the car to the shop-- oil change and new brake pads and the works. I stayed home and cleaned until the afternoon. By the time we were finished with our chores it was early evening, and we were tired and cranky and in desperate need of some happy sunshine times. So we packed a bag and hit the beach again. We drove the scenic route with the windows down all the way to Whitefish Bay, where there are less drunk bros and more old people. Our sort of place, obviously. It was so hot outside, but the beach was breezy and sunny and comfortable. The water's still too cold to do anything but run in up to your knees, scream, and run back out, but there's plenty to do in the sand. Ryan likes to skip rocks and toss big chunks of driftwood into the water and explore, and I like to lay on the blanket and people watch. Occasionally I write messages in the sand or find smooth stones to take home. It's fun, the beach.

We packed up when the shadows got long and there was more shade than sunshine (when the punks started rolling in.) But thankfully, before we left, we were able to catch about 5 minutes of a group of 4 girls and one dude have a seductive photo shoot in the sand. Guys, there was some intense smizing. It was awesome.