Joint blog: beach preparations, lists, and grammar

R: How do you say ‘lease’ in French?

J: <blank stare>

R: “It’s lebiel.”

J: <mistypes it>

R: No. Le bail.

J: Wow. First attempt wasn’t even close.

R: I’m almost done.

R: So we go to the beach tomorrow.

J: Yeeeeeeeesssssssss.

R: We haven’t packed a thing yet.

J: No, but we did the most important part. We made a LIST of what to pack. We are king and queen of lists.

R: And I made a list of questions to discuss in the car.

J: That is helpful too, in case the boys decide to stop singing Old MacDonald at the top of their lungs.

R: “Me I Me I Moe.”

J: I’m getting pretty excited to see my family and pack this slow-roasted pork shoulder we’ve been smelling all day. Lucky Davises get to sample round two of our latest DNI triumph.

R: If there’s any left. We’ve been eating through the very bottomest empty pantry shelves and refrigerator drawers, and there are still 28 hours to go in which we need to choose between ramen noodle packets that you bought when you were pregnant with James or a perfectly roasted pork shoulder. Are you sure that we told them we were bringing food down?

J: Well, it just came out of the oven, falling off the bone. What do you think?
R: It was even better than I remembered.

J: So anyway, LISTS. The big question is, are we going to make a list of things to do while we’re at the beach? I’ve long contended that such a list contradicts the very meaning of what a vacation is.

R: But you won’t be able to enjoy the vacation unless you feel like you’re winning it, by making progress on your list.

J: When you say “you” do you mean “me” or “us” or “my father-in-law”?

R: There’s a lovely idiom in French where you can substitute “on” which can mean “one, we, or you” and use it in phrases like, “one must try the soup.” It’s fairly common relative to the English equivalent, and I think that’s what I intended.

J: … OK then. Fancy French footwork. What are you most looking forward to at the beach?
R: One must practice the trumpet rigorously. Just kidding. I want to get in the water. And drag James into the water kicking and screaming. And drag Owen out of the deep water kicking and screaming.

J: I’m excited to watch the boys play in nature’s sandbox. Nature’s sandbox…that sounds very weird. And watch the waves come in. And find a crab. If we don’t find a crab I think James’ heart will be broken.

R: And to hear the seagulls.

J: Which we can already hear daily in our local bank’s parking lot…

R: Those are BAYgulls.

J: Oh. Sure. I like bagels.

R: And you’ll wear a bikini. That’s on my list to enjoy.

J: Ummmmm. I will wear a two-piece. But it’s not a bikini.

R: Sur la plage on faut s’habille une bikini.

J: Right. Also. THE OLYMPICS!!!!!! Stop grabbing the keyboard to correct your grammar in the sentence above.

R: Yes, we will lose you for three nights to the women’s gymnastics.

J: <happy smile> But THEY are NOT going to lose. It’s going to be epic! 4 years ago I watched it in a lake house in MD. This year, a beach house in DE. Four years from now, Europe???

R: <something in French>

J: This isn’t fun anymore.

R: We’ve been so excited about going that we even told our bakery friends. Yes, we have friends at the bakery now.

J: They give us free cookies. Of course we consider them friends. It’s nice of them to consider us theirs, considering “we” smudge up their glass display cases with our grimy noses and fingers and run through the waiting line with no regard for the customers ahead of us.

R: One must get as close to the cookie as possible.

J: One must. We usually give the boys a little Italian cookie and we each pick out something fancy and new to try, with great names like “sfogliatella” and “quesito” and “rum baba.” Today we outdid ourselves and ordered as slice of “ding dong cake.”

R: It’s like a fancy Ho-Ho.

J: It was pretty good, in spite of the name.

R: Do you remember when you were little and you would have a Ho-Ho? And part of it would stick to the little piece of cardboard underneath?

J: Yup.

R: One must lick all the chocolate off.

J: Chocolate with the texture of wax.

R: Anyway, our baker friend is also going to the beach next week.

J: She looked as excited as we are about getting away.

R: And one of the other workers recommended that we go to some place like Chincoteague, although not Chincoteague, which has wild horses near the beach we’ll be visiting.

J: Something else to add to the non-list of things to do. Why is Owen fussing in his bed? It is not time to get up yet.

R: He’s excited about the beach.

J: I hope he’s excited enough to fall asleep in his car seat for the trip there.

R: Whenever you ask him about the beach he says “no no no”—he isn’t excited. But if you ask him about seeing Grandma Davis he’ll smile and nod. And if you ask him about Grandpa Davis…he’s OK too.

J: We will pack the laptop, but aren’t promising to be faithful bloggers whilst we vacate. One can get too close to checking one’s work email once the computer is opened you know.

R: What else will we do? Mini-golf?
J: I think I have a better time imagining what mini-golf with James and Owen would be like than it would actually probably be like.

R: Kind of like Christmas morning.

J: In my head it’s a riot. James is being extremely meticulous about what size club he chooses, what color ball he needs “GREEN”, and counts each stroke. Owen tries to stick his ball “BLUE—chosen by James” into his mouth and bats his club at James’ ball.

R: But in reality we would just be fishing Owen out of the unnaturally-colored water all of the time.

J: Probably. You can always reduce the situation to a lower common factor. The big question is, will Grandpa Davis figure out some way to take us on a hike? At the beach? In Delaware? This could be his biggest challenge yet.

R: And we’ll read. I envy your Kindle this week when we have to pack lightly.

J: I love my Kindle. I don’t think I exaggerate when I say I bet I would just be approaching the halfway point of my 50 books in a year project if I didn’t have it.

R: And instead you’re approaching the finish line. From now until December you can just veg on the couch and watch TV.

J: If I read all of the books I plan on bringing to the beach (via Kindle) I will definitely go over the 50 book mark. And I’ll keep reading! And also re-watch all of the Olympic gymnastics competitions while vegging on the couch. Because, rewards.

R: You might be really bummed once the Olympics and beach are over.

J: Did you just end that sentence with a preposition?
R: You might be really bummed once the Olympics and beach are over, bitch.

J: <Doubles over laughing>

One must understand that this is a long running joke…forgive us Great-Grandma Davis.