Beach Babies

We've been beating the heat this summer (heat index of 115 degrees? gross. is that even allowed?) with plenty o' time in the water.

First stop: Rockaway Beach. Not bad for a beach you can reach from the comfort of the A-train. Add in great friends, seashell scavenging, sandy mangoes, vintage trains and adorable kids and you have an Saturday for which Noah may just sacrifice his hard-earned farmer's tan.

The following weekend, we celebrated the lovely Stacie's birthday on Lake Hopatcong in New Jersey. Fun was had by all, except whomever was the object of scary Steve's wakeboarding instruction at the time (some impressive self talk got me through, "don't take it personally... don't take it personally...").

Lake Hopatcong is where I learned Noah can do anything. Granted, he did wakeboard a little bit growing up so it wasn't technically his first time, but he was a natural. Sexy. (Sorry, Grandma.)

Lake Hopatcong is where I learned I'm... not so much a natural. But at least I got up. And then took the next few seconds trying to decide... goofy! no, regular! no, goofy! The picture cracks me up. I don't know what's more awesome to me, my painful posture or my blinding white thighs. Either way, this is the moment I declared: "I wakeboard. I'm a wakeboarder."

 (thank you, Morgan, for the great pictures!)

Last stop: Cape Cod, MA. We enjoyed a lovely evening with the Hawkers in Providence, then made our way up the Cape at a leisurely pace. Leave it to me to take a camera with a dead battery to such a beautiful place, but the iPhone helped us make do.

We stumbled on a blueberry festival at the Green Briar Jam Kitchen - a working kitchen that's been in operation since 1903. Just try to tell me eating a delicious homemade blueberry dessert in this adorable kitchen, prepared by these sweet folks isn't on your bucket list.

After staining our lips blue and finding some treasures at the used book sale, we made our way to the Cape Cod National Seashore, where a friendly park ranger gave us directions based (unsolicited) on where to go so as not to pay for parking. Um, get out of my head, park ranger! How did you know this was the fastest way to earn my adoration?

His excellent advice led us to a quiet and secluded beach in Wellfleet where we ate bread and cheese and cherries and stared lovingly into one another's eyes. You think I'm joking. I never joke about staring lovingly into a park ranger's eyes.

Also, anyone want to go halfsies on an abomination?

That evening, we stayed at a B&B with the most charming owners. If you're looking for a place to stay in the area, check out Abigail's B&B in Kingston.

Sunday it was raining, it was pouring, but we did manage stops by Plymouth Rock and Yale University on our way home.