Whenever we Farsons are all together, I think of David Sedaris’s remark somewhere that all happy families are alike in their insistence that their family is the best family, superior to all other families. It’s a position of wild arrogance, and one that typically leads to an unfortunate form of righteous isolationism, but I feel it intensely nonetheless.
For better or worse, we all find each other extremely funny, and gamesmanship and laughter rule the day (this is, of course, The Way of Jak). We’re very fortunate. We light up in each other’s company, even as we surely brush up against one another’s quirks and foibles. There is a lot of joy and messiness in a large family, and I feel perpetually blessed to be in one.
Kelsey and Alex persist in being the best hosts, and we drank of their hospitality all week, warming to each other and the humid winds of Hatteras.
The boys had a blast and were loath to leave.
Although they initially approached the ocean with mountain-dwellers’ caution, by the end of the week, they were fully committed beach boys.
I’ll confess, however, that I am not a Beach Person.
If given the chance between going to the beach and not going to the beach, I will almost always choose not going to the beach.
My reasons are manifold and varied. I hate being sunburned or feeling like I’m about to be sunburned. Sand in every crevice is noxious. I do not go in for the water sports or the deep ocean swimming, and so I find the beach merely hot and monotonous. Because I am keeping little children from drowning and/or getting burnt to a crisp, it is also not restful. I do not get to sit and read or take long walks by the shore. I must remain vigilant and sticky and irritated. In this stage of life, the beach is merely a stressful landscape.
But I’ve always been a crone at heart, because I held this opinion even in my youth. The charms of the ocean have never worked on my cold soul. I’d much rather be in the woods or in a field or on a mountain. I’m a landswoman. I mistrust the great expanse of water stretching out before me. I always feel like it wants to kill me.
I go to the beach because I like being with family, but it is never a top priority for me, even as I understand that others love everything about it. Beach is a Way of Life for many, and I respect this, even as I will never count myself as one of their curious tribe.
“If you were unfamiliar with the political situation in our country, you might think you were witnessing not the machinations of a democracy but the final surrender of personal consciousness into the public domain.”
— Kudos, Rachel Cusk
Currently Reading
Demon Copperhead, Barbara Kingsolver
The Death of Adam, Marilynne Robinson
Guess what? A mountain lake is my preference always. Sand is a thing I dislike in the way that I dislike olives and anchovies; tolerable, but would never request on my birthday…