My niece came by for chatter, a walk and lunch with me and her Grandparents. During the walk, we discussed many things. College, degrees, jobs, careers, interviews, etc. She was extra amped over the impending Spring Break (what college student doesn’t get excited by a week off?).
I mentioned it was coming at a great time, since our weather was firming up nicely, with sunny, upper 70’s days and reasonably tame winds. Perfect for the beach. We talked about the winds and the light chop which might make swimming a little challenging, but not impossible. She assured me she would bring a lunch with her this time, since the last time I took her to the beach, she wanted to leave early because she was hungry.
I thanked her for reminding me I would need to renew my beach parking pass ($45 a year vs. $18 a pop) and she eagerly jumped on the statement as if there was an offer implied. Not only did she confirm that I could drive her to the beach, but she also let me know that I could bring her sister and her friend, as well.
Of course, I said yes. Then, despite the light sweat generated during the walk, I felt a cold tingle. I was totally unprepared to go to the beach. No, not the parking sticker, just everything else!
Having spent the first month of the year plagued by some weird prolonged cold, most of my exercise regimen went to the wayside. I haven’t shown much eagerness to get started since my return to health. Additionally, having just finished and published “What Next?”, I was dragging my fingers on Book 3. I told myself it was not yet warm enough to head to the beach (where I write all my books).
Now? Oh gosh, I’ve only got a week or so to get at least some shape back in my shape. Furthermore, how can I go to the beach for several hours and not begin writing “What Now?”. I would have no excuse…not even writer’s block, since I have been percolating ideas for days now.
So, here I am, exercising, working out and plotting in preparation for an unexpected trip to the beach. Historically, these little jaunts have a tendency to be canceled (young ladies’ schedules being what they are), but the damage is done. I am on the cusp of being productive again.
All because of spring break and a walk with my niece.