The Events of Saturday, January 1, 2011       

            The good thing about having a daddy who is both the gentle and rough housing type is that he knows when to use which and is good at both. Abby, for example, is only the rough housing type. (You wouldn’t think so, looking at her sweet, round, freckled, rosy cheeks and her affectionate smile, but if threatened she will turn into a mama buffalo.) In the morning, she will bounce all over you. But, Daddy will sit there and very gently pat your shoulder until you begin to stir. This morning, at eight o’clock, he did just that to welcome me into my first conscious moment of 2011.

            Grandma’s special Christmas treat, Stollen, is a breakfast bread with frosting, candy cherries, and sprinkles. This year, she brought it all the way from Oregon to Williamsburg, VA, when she, Grandpa and my Aunt Jennifer (all on my Daddy’s side) came to spend Christmas with us. We still have this delicious breakfast treat and it was added to our breakfast this morning. This was another little detail that made my New Year’s Day so special.

            Wanting to start the year off clean and new, we set out after breakfast, in what we call our beach clothes, to clean the RV inside out and upside down. This is a very difficult task, but the result is amazing. When we came down the stairs from our beach house on stilts and looked upon the task at hand, Harvey Aardvark looked like he had been through a kick box match, and lost. I was contemplating the benefits of driving him into the ocean and letting the fish eat his filth when Daddy came up behind me and handed me the hose. Now, if you ever happen to come by our house on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of summer and see us on the driveway in our swimsuits with oversized, beat-up T-shirts on top, you know that it is car washing time. We take this act very seriously in our family, especially when it is hot. We have a lot of fun getting sprayed by Daddy, having foam fights, and overall getting absolutely soaked. But, in between shots of water and throwing soapy sponges over the hot metal of the car, we really clean the vehicle to a point that I call shining spectacle.

            However, today is JANUARY 1. A few days ago we were walking in snow. Although there is no snow today, it still is cold. I took the hose knowing that if I got anyone wet, I’d get in big trouble. I very carefully rinsed the RV and the scrubbers with sponges followed close behind. Somewhere in the course of our washing, Mom took the hose and I was put on scrubbing duty. Now, the event that I am about to describe to you happened in a matter of seconds. I was scrubbing away and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom lay down the hose to go help Caitlin with something. All of a sudden, the air erupted with the screams of an 11 year old child, dying a slow death of freezing water torture. Mom quickly picked up the hose again and assessed the damage. Before her stood my little sister, soaked in the absolute worst place to get soaked. (I hope I don’t have to tell you, but our e-mail is written somewhere on this website if you are really dying to know.) It seems Abby inadvertently stepped on the hose, rolling the nozzle onto its trigger and setting it off. Everyone froze, one of us more than the rest. However, Abby was soon able to laugh it off and have fun with the rest of us as we finished the job. And the story became a new addition to my special day in the New Year of 2011.

            Soon the RV was a shining spectacle inside out and upside down and it was officially time for the annual Tournament of Roses Parade. We settled on the couch in comfy sweats and watched the bands and floats go by. At the first commercial break, we all jumped up and did laundry. The next commercial break we emptied the cooler. The next commercial break we washed the cooler. Caitlin had prepared tuna salad the day before and so we made a tuna lunch during commercials and then ate while watching the parade. Songs, roses and organic materials mixed with the corny jokes and obvious comments by the news people and Abby again losing count of the number of tubas all made the list of my first day of 2011.

            After the parade was over, Mom stayed at home to work on the computer and make some essential grown up calls.  The rest of us walked down to Holden Beach. We walked onto the beach at a different spot than yesterday. We started walking to the left, dodging the waves, playing with the foam and sea shells, exploring the treasures of the sand. At a certain point, we turned around and headed back. We picked up our shoes that we had left by the boardwalk and waltzed along the beach to the other boardwalk entrance. We walked back to the house barefoot, dangling our shoes over our arms, with hands full of seashells.

            Showers were showered and Mom started to slap together tacos. The spicy aromas drifted through the house and we all came to the table without really having to be told. We enjoyed our dinner thoroughly and Mom went to do her own little thing and Daddy did math with the rest of us. Around nine, Mom and Daddy went on a walk together on the beach and the rest of us headed to bed. The memories of 2010, the past, are like the aftertaste of a delicious taco; nice to reflect on, but after a while you want to brush them out of your mouth.  But the dreams of the future (aka 2011), are like the promise of a chocolate chip cookie and a glass of milk.