I tell you, there are very few things more utterly lovely than reading the Torah on the beach on Shabbat morning while the sun is coming up.

So, to start, I had a /nice/ weekend.

Friday we decided to get in the car and head for the beach. This was accomplished with minimum fuss. 3 hours and one straight road= Wilmington, and Carolina Deach. We sailed on down to Kure, walked a bit in the dark, then went back into wilmington and sat in Perkins til' 4. Then over to a nice dark side of the road to sleep till around six.

We woke up in a steam bath, and rolled down the windows to breathe. Headed straight for the beach; washed away sleep in the Atlantic. Enjoyed the fact that the sea here is a) warm and b) bigger than me.

I have a beloved-threat-of-death relationship with the ocean.

When I was small, I used to play those games where you run out when the waves receeed, and then run away shrieking when they come back at you. One time, they caught me, and dragged me out into the surf.

I remember sinking. I remember paniking as the water closed over my head, and then I remember relaxing, thinking Well that was short, and curiously regarding the yellowy-greeness of everything down there. Then I remember an arm around my belly, knocking the-- er-- not quite wind, I guess out of me, and pulling me back to the air. My mommy saved my life that day. Sometimes I think the sea wants it's revenge, sometimes I think it's happy as long as I aknowledge its supremacy. So me and Q sat in the surf and let it knock us rolling head-over-heels, and wash us up on the beach, and fling us around. It was fun!

Then we went and built a sand-coliseum with seaweed for laurel crowns (yay Posiedon!) and also a sand-dragonfly, and Fox made a mermaid, and Silvara baked and burned.

It was /fun/. And then it was kind of spooky. We went to downtown Wilmington, which I love. I think, of the places I've seen that I want to live (Myrtle Beach and Richmond particularily) Wilmington may just be the perfect comprimise. Close enough to the sea, and wonderful historic-ness. And there's this armor shop. And It had old WWII german officer daggers, uniforms, epaulets, and other paraphanailia. There was this black and silver SS ring... Waffen SS reinactor uniforms... an OddFellows apron... lots and lots of US military stuff (including the world's greatest boots!) but jesus, the Dagger...

it had an yellow-orange pommel, the spread-winged nazi eagle with faded swastika, and a goregous scabbard, with the rings to tie in. It was SHARP. It was $365.

*sigh*

It was spooky, but it was beautiful, and a lot nicer than those god-awful eagles-head pommel daggers. YUCK. I could pratcically hear them singing "Tomorrow Belongs To Me."

Is it wrong of me to Want a pair of SS officer epaulets and the collar insignia? Or is it just misguided nostalgia? Either way, I don't think Fox would allow them in the house, and I can't say I blame her, really.

*sings* Remember, walking in the sa-a-and..?

We started the D&D campaign in earnest last night. So far, it is too cute for words, so I am told. Lots of little orphaned baby brass dragons imploring the party to get revenge on the Human Bastards that killed their mother.

the metallic ones are /good/ you blithering idiots... Ah well.

Now. Slash and Other Writing to do.

MM. Slash Good...

<<agé chose>>

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