Almost one week of beach living and I have forgotten all pressing worries from my real home life. This is miraculous. And a little scary. This morning, while sitting on the end of my uncles dock, allowing the subtle northwestern sun to brown my shoulders, I looked at my sister and said, "Do I still owe you money?", having completely forgotten. Realizing this morning that I forgot to call my doctor, endocrinologist, and dentist, and that it was Saturday again, so I'd have to wait, is a little unnerving. That I could forget my life so completely is terrifyingly wonderful.
This place. It is eight or so acres of wooded hillside sloping down into the bay. It is a beautiful, rocky beach, with stretch island (of stretch island fruit leather) clearly visible and a five minute walk across the bay when the tide is out. It is the family trust, the family property, already parcelled out, claimed, and built upon. It is tiny orchards of two or three green apple trees, cherry trees, kiwis, and wild blackberries everywhere.
Interesting to sit, with your sisters on either side, and have every aunt, uncle, and cousin look at you quizzically, heads tilted to the side, "I'm just trying to figure out where you fit.". Who do we look like, anyway? And how do they look like each other so strongly on some days and so not at all on others. And how is it that no one looks like Grandma. Those Christinsen genes, so strong, so unrepresented in this generation. Every now and then a photograph surfaces, Great Grandpa Theodore and how much Uncle Jed is visible in that face. Family is so crazy. Also, there are just so many of us. So many. And now that we are all adults we take up so much more space. So many large personalities and persons, all gathered together making awkward lunges toward commonality.
In the quest for identity, this place confuses me. I have no job here, no friends outside of blood relatives, no responsibilities, and therefore I have trouble letting it have any formative power on my life. No hold.
It's a vacation. I know that. A vacation. I sleep late, let my mom cook my meals, laugh with my cousins, and tan on the dock. As far as vacations go, this is a good one.
also, this is one of my favorite things ever. Check it out. The Waste-Not Wagon.