When one has small children who have not developed awareness of proper sanitary practice, it's pretty much a given that you're going to spend a good deal of your days battling off one bug or another. Still, it's been definitely "heavy weather" that Cheryl has been under for the last while. The poor lass has had over two weeks of over-stuffed sinuses, trying to breathe whilst feeling like a not-small pachyderm was on her chest, and feeling wiped out no matter how much rest she got. By Friday, she'd had it, and took herself to the walk-in clinic, where they prescribed an antibiotic with enough punch to knock out an elephant. Hopefully she will be feeling a bit better today and better tomorrow.
All this has taken place of course against the following backdrop: Autumn, also known as "The Rainy Season" hereabouts, has arrived with a vengeance - intent on over-compensating us double and treble the precipitation deficit we managed to run up through most of July, August, and September of this year. I will be grateful that the North Pacific doesn't get warm enough to spin up the hurricanes that they get in the tropics, but it sure does get warm enough for the air to absorb a significant amount of water when humidity levels hit 100%. Since it will be only 30 or 40 days until Winter -- "The Even More Rainy Season" -- arrives, the last six or seven weeks have been, to say the least, distinctly gloomy.
Anyhow, the break .. We woke on Saturday morning to blessed sunshine! It was wonderful to be able to open the blinds and see the lovely yellow-golden light. We had a late brunch, and then Cheryl said, "Let's get everyone packed up and go for a walk."
Me: "Are you sure you're up to this? You, and everyone else in this house, are still sick."
Cheryl: "I'm fine. We won't be out long. I just need to get out long enough to get some sun."
Me: "Riiiiight."
Actually, the antibiotics she is on must have been helpful, because it was Cheryl who did all the work to get us out the door. My brain was, and still is, pretty foggy about the whole thing.
I believe we drove around the block only once before we figured out the general direction we were headed in -- the ocean of course. If you head up valley, you'll just end up following all the gunky weather. If you head out towards the ocean, you've at least got a 50/50 chance the weather coming in from the ocean will be fair and not foul.
A couple of wrong turns later, we found ourselves headed to one of our favourite places, Crescent Beach. However this time I directed Cheryl to steer us away from our usual walk, towards the other end of the lot, and the entrance to Blackie Spit Park. This handkerchief-sized park points north and nast, away from the ocean, and protects a small marsh and wetland on its eastern side.
The shoreline that describes the spit was practically deserted. The kids had a great time looking for shells and other treasures on the sand.
Momentarily taking leave of her senses, Cheryl decided that it might be fun to wade into the ocean in bare feet.
The children, other than Megan, felt discretion the better part of valour, and left the wading to their mother and sister. That and the water was pretty cold anyhow.
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