So, we’re right in the middle of a wonderful span of gorgeous spring weather. It’s clear and dry, with overnight lows in the 40s, and daytime highs around 65. I just *love* the Texas Gulf Coast in January!
Today was the holiday honoring Martin Luther King, Jr. I had the day off, but Bill had to work. So, Nané and I took the girls to Galveston to visit Baba Jean and Papa Chuck.
We stopped at Super Slidey Park to run around, climb the bleachers, attempt to hit a tee ball, and run into Sebastian and his babushka. We hit Whole Foods to potty, ride on carts, snack on pears and thumbprint cookies, and collect various prep salads for lunch. We stopped for gas, and then we headed south. Sam fell asleep almost immediately, but Cate resisted for half an hour. With a little bit of circling, both girls got some naptime.
When we got to Dansby, both Crystal and Minga were there for visiting, too. I love that both girls conversed with Minga en español as easily as in English. After lunch, Baba Jean and I had the same idea: beach.
Last week, Mom told me that when she was getting ready to retire, her coworkers asked her what she planned to do. She declared for walking on the beach everyday, but in the seven months since, she hadn’t been yet.
Likewise, the girls enjoy a little book called “Blue takes a dip” in which the puppy goes to the beach. But until today, they’d never been on the sand.
So we drove to the newly-reconstructed end of the Seawall (it had been washed out by Ike), parked, and went walking. We saw seagulls and a lovely, yellow-footed snowy egret. But it was no surprise that Sam immediately wanted to go in the water.
Initially, we pulled off shoes and hiked up pants. But before long, Cate declared that her clothes were too wet and asked for help to get them off. Once naked, she charged back into the waves. As soon as Cate was half undressed, Sam followed suit. They raced in and out of the water cackling gleefully, over and over and over. Occasionally they would pause, to contemplate the sensation of the sand slipping out from under their feet, or to look for shells, but then they would go splash some more.
I could not have told you that we would spend 20 minutes splashing in the surf today — I don’t remember the last time I went in the water in Galveston — but there we were. At ~64 degrees, the water was cold, and it reminded me of the very first time I splashed in the Gulf, in February 1985, when Dad brought us all to see the place we would soon move to.
Afterward, we rinsed off, bundled girls, and returned to Dansby to tell Papa Chuck all about our adventure. He agreed that the beach is fun this time of year and allowed that he might join us next time. I hope that he will!