Summer Time

Okay, maybe the painting's going better than the writing.
It seems that I can squeak in some time here and there to paint, but words elude me. I think it's the chicken peckers surrounding me. Love them to bits, but they erode my brain cells and make me incapable of finishing sentences, thoughts, or . . . .
You see?
I don't know what I was trying to say.
My daughter's working, but not driving. I should make her pay for the gas and my time -- but if parents did that, on the time alone kids would start their lives in greater debt than an Ivy League education can create.
My babie's surfing. Five mornings a week. I get to sit on the beach and watch.
Okay, truth be told, I stopped watching a long time ago.
Now I sit and listen to John Denver or Rascal Flats on my iphone and take random pictures of people and seagulls, and ghost crabs who come out of their hidey holes to remove some sand. They only come out because I've been sitting so still, for so long, they think I must have left by then. I haven't, but sometimes, if I'm lucky, I haven't fallen asleep while I focus my camera on their hole and wait.
It's because of the kids really, that I can sit so still, so long that a ghost crab will think I've left or fallen asleep. So I guess I have the little buggers to thank for something.
It's because of all my time sitting and waiting for them that I will get through Stephen Kings Duma Keys this summer, and listen to all the songs on the relaxing playlist on my iphone. Yep, all 1036 of them. It's because of the kids that I'm golden brown and relaxed, and have enough photo's of ghost crabs to find one that I'll paint this winter when the kids are back in school and summer, and beach sits are just a fond memory.
The laundry alone in the summer helps me relate to the ghost crabs. Slowly, slowly they grab claws full of sand to throw out of their hole and make it more presentable. Arm loads by arm loads I throw clothes into the washing machine trying to find the bottom of my clothes basket. Neither one of us gets to see the task complete, not for very long anyhow.
I'm thankful to everyone who's stopped by this summer and folded a cloth or two.
I'm thankful to those yet to come.
I'm thankful that summer's not yet over, and I still get to listen to my iphone, and watch the ghost crabs, and wait for the seagulls to waddle by in front of me.
I hope your summer is going well too!