Monday, August 16, 2010

Beach Blanket Backgammon

Salad days.

Not the ones of my youth.

Of Charlie's.

They are flying by. Whizzing neon stripes in motion. Buzzing electric.

We are taking advantage of every moment we have together.

Reliving our cherished moments.

DVDs by night.

Me snuggled on the comfortable study sofa wrapped in a forest green afghan. Him with his long legs stretching from the Martha Washington chair nearby to the butler's tray table. Balancing baskets of popcorn. Digging into an array of hummus, Wheat Thins, Trader Joe's peach salsa with blue corn tortilla chips.

A diverse mix of our most beloved films. Spanning his childhood. Encompassing my unconventional journey and irreverent sense of irony - Dead Poet's Society, Golden Eye, Trainspotting, Austin Powers, Baby Boom, the British Office, Entourage, Friends.

Beach by mid-afternoon.

The most special time of our unusually hot this year, August day. Home from his summer internship in New York City. Capturing precious moments before his imminent departure for the Far East and the rest of his life. Well those are spent at Parsons Beach eating turkey-avocado wraps, sipping Stellas (him, pas moi ... I have my TaB, of course), playing game after game of highly competitive backgammon. In case you are wondering. We are pretty evenly matched. Though I do believe it tips in his favor. He is luckier in his rolls. Much!

Parsons is the loveliest beach in town. Newly discovered by me. And the closest. Parking is limited so it is off the radars of seasonal tourists. Serene. Enchanting views from the sea grass waving on the dunes to the craggy beaches and seaside cottages along the shores. Quietude. No blaring radios or gabby teenagers or chattering families with their children kicking sand on our bamboo mats. Lovely.
[Photo compliements of Captain Lord Mansion, Kennebunkport, Maine]
And this year is different. A first for me. I am sporting a bathing suit. Yes, folks. An honest to god, bathing outfit. Not turn-of-the-last century knee length wool bathing costume replete with its CYA pleated skirt. Nope. A black maillot, no straps. Stunning actually. I have shed those unwanted fat cells. Not exactly toned. But it works. This makes me smile. Widely.

So here I am with my darling son enjoying our fleeting moments of life as we know it. Ready to create a brand new paradigm. Charlie on the other side of the world. His bedtime, my morning walk.

To these summer days filled with my darling son!

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