Monday, October 26, 2015

The Church of Autumn

Sort of a change of pace weekend in these parts.   The Missus hosted - with Suzanne's help - a garage sale.  Of the endless number of things I find exasperating, the garage sale is an event that holds a very special place in the Collection of Undertakings I Cannot Fucking Stand.  Strangers roaming all over my driveway while haggling over nickels and dimes.  All in the pursuit of a "bargain".   Margaret has the stomach for such nonsense.  I do not.  

Thus, while she was home doing her thing I went to the beach to do some work at our little piece of Paradise by the Sea.  I completed a painting project as well as some other chores.  And it would not be a weekend at the beach if I did not squeeze in a run along the water.  

As I waited for the first coat of paint to dry I headed south around our town's namesake and into Spring Lake.  I love the Shore in October.  There are only a fraction of the people around as opposed to those you might see in July.  The streets are quiet.  The air is crisp and, Saturday, the sky over the ocean was a spectacular gun-metal gray.  

A wise man once observed that "it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive".  



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