Wednesday, September 9, 2009

9-9-09

So... here I am on this supposedly portentous day trying to figure out if it's a good one or not. The number 9 is considered a complete number by numerologists. It is the highest number of a sequence... i.e. 1-9, 10-19, etc. A date like today, 9/9/09, is the last set of repeating single digit dates until 1/1/2101. It's also effectively the end of summer. Labor day came two days ago and though we've got until the 21st, the skies are already gloomy and the air cooler.

Our last official hurrah for the summer was another trek down to Delaware. Our gracious hosts again opened their home to us and we spent the weekend at the somewhat dodgy shores of the First State. Friday we kicked around the house after laying in a supply of beer and food. On Saturday we visited Herring Point at Cape Henlopen. This state park holds a special significance to Carl and Jill as they have been a part of an educational team from their Pennsylvania school district that brings kids here each year.

We kicked back by the murky waves and watched people and their dogs. Janet and I then clamored over a jetty and weaved past a long line of suv's parked on the beach and ducked past fishing lines strung from surf poles stuck in the sand and people playing loud games of horseshoes. We walked quite a distance; nearly to Rehobeth Beach and only turned around at the first military tower that rises ominously from the surf like a stubborn old coot refusing to move away. We circled the sentinel and turned around for our chairs.

We never made it Rehobeth Beach proper, nor did we go to the Dogfish Head Brewery tour in Milton; two things we had planned. The weekend was instead like a long nap. Saturday night I prepared my ever popular "Chicken Dunaj" and we were all nodding off like the old folks we are no later than 10 p.m.

Sunday we left for home, but not until we went to Broadkill Beach for a few hours. It is literally a spit of sand on the bay, littered with horseshoe crab shells. You have to drive miles through the Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge which is beautiful and there is a little snack shop right near the beach entrance that serves great milk shakes, but I've never been a great fan of Broadkill.
There is a dingy feel to it and I'd rather drive the extra miles to a resort beach.

My opinion of Broadkill changed a lot when we visited Carl and Jill's neighbors. They own a large home in a gated community a few miles north of Broadkill proper. Situated right on the water and with lots of room the beach seemed wider and the water less murky and more ocean than bay. This particular day the wind was kicking up and their friends were out in small sailing boats and their kids and dogs were either cavorting in the water or splashing in the pool.

It was humbling. Looking at the wealth displayed I was painfully aware of my personal lack of intelligence.

Sadly, I was unable to make a beeline for the Dogfish head brewery pub in Rehobeth, for we had to leave for home. This is a good thing, for I might have remained there, chaining myself to one of the taps.

Thanks for reading this blog. I guess it has had its run. Still as time permits and events and places reveal themselves to me, I will add more. Hope you have enjoyed everything so far.
love,
greg

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