Where's the beef?

     I spent the afternoon sitting on a beach with friends while the Blue Angels practiced overhead.  There was a blue sky, a perfect breeze, and the kids all played nicely together for three hours.  There are far worse ways to spend an afternoon, wouldn't you say?  Now I'm home facing the dinner grind, and I'm just in beach mode.  I don't want to clean up the kitchen and make dinner only to have to clean up the kitchen again; it feels like a night for a clam bake, or a burger and fries in a basket, or something else you eat with your fingers.  Its a vacation day, not a work day, and there should be vacation food.  To me, vacation food is usually food made by someone else while I have a tropical cocktail.  

     School was closed today for Yom Kippur.  I wasn't really looking forward to a day off school because Leila has been home so much lately with her ear infection and all of that, and I was ready to unload her for a little while and try to get a few things done.  But one of my friends had the great idea to go to the Conservatory of Flowers and see the butterfly exhibit and then go to the beach at Chrissy Field.  We were delayed this morning, walking the dog, taking a shower, etc. so we met everyone at the beach, and I got to sit on my butt all afternoon while Leila buried herself in the sand, made piles of sand, made more piles of wet sand, ate a sandwich, and dug a hole.  

     So, other than having to make dinner AGAIN, (always with the dinner and the laundry!) I don't have anything to complain about which actually makes for a pretty boring blog post.  I think that when Sheryl Crow was all in love with Lance Armstrong , and she was healthy and happy, her music suffered.  When she was angst ridden and hanging out with heroin addicts and being heart broken, I loved her stuff.  Then she got happy, and I couldn't stand that "Wildflowers" piece of poo.  Maybe now that she's had breast cancer and broken up with Lance her music will be better, but she just adopted a kid so she's probably happy.  Is it wrong that I want my musicians to be sad and insecure?  Thankfully, Shawn Colvin is bipolar, so I can count on her to be down in the dumps.  I guess my point is that even though I am trying not to be a big whiny gasbag all the time, I just don't think its all that interesting to write (or read) about a great day where nothing is annoying, and there's only so much I can write about not wanting to make dinner and clean things.  Actually, I could write about not wanting to make dinner and clean things all day long, but I don't think it would make for interesting reading.  So, I had a nice day, but the day's not over yet, and if it goes in the crapper between now and bedtime, you'll read about it here.

     Leila just walked in the living room naked to inform me she has a pimple on her butt.