Posted by: roughwighting | August 29, 2014

Napping into a Headstand

Sailing on the Bay by Pamela S. Wight“I don’t feel old. I don’t feel anything until noon. Then it’s time for my nap.” Bob Hope

Boy, I wish I could nap.

I watch my guy on a soft slow Saturday afternoon, slumped on the large armchair in front of the window. If his eyes were open, he’d survey the soft fluffy clouds floating over the azure blue waters, and he’d note the gentle movement of the white sailboats as they lazed across the Bay.

But his head is leaned back and his mouth is open, releasing a sonorous hum of a snore every 30 seconds. Read More…

Posted by: roughwighting | August 22, 2014

Baboon Heaven

 

Sunset by Pamela S. Wight

“But is there a heaven?” he asked in all seriousness.

“Well,” I replied, “I think, um, I think that depends on how you define ‘heaven.’”

Son Sean, 12 at the time, looked at me blankly. “Whatd’ya mean?” he asked earnestly. Read More…

Posted by: roughwighting | August 15, 2014

Don’t Ever Do That Again!

gas tank, emptyMy dear daughter, mother of three under 6, wife of distracted lawyer-husband, granddaughter of a beautiful loving stubborn grandmother, offers to drive me the 1 ½ hours to the airport.

“You shouldn’t leave the beach house on your vacation – I’ll call a service,” I insist.

She whispers back, teeth clenched tightly, “Get me out of here!” Read More…

Posted by: roughwighting | August 8, 2014

Oh Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer

Morning Surf by PS WightThe day is hazy and warm. The Atlantic Ocean sparkles a silvery grey while I bike on the Boards in mid-morning bliss.

My brother and I with our dad at the beach.

My brother and I with our dad at the beach.

At least 15 of my extended family travel near (DE) and far (CA, DC, MD, and MA) each year to unwind, rewind, and renew our family connections. My parents began this tradition in the late 1950s. My brother and I preserved the idea, and now our kids, nieces and nephews have enlarged and expanded on “the family vacation.”

Some of our friends who have never experienced the NJ shore kind of scoff at the premise of “relaxing” on a crowded hot humid beach where literally thousands of children scream in delight at each rolling wave, where teenagers throw Frisbees between the waves, and where people from all over the east coast with many different body sizes stroll the surf near naked. Read More…

Posted by: roughwighting | August 1, 2014

Fits and Starts

Painting: Paul Cézanne, The Dream of the Poet (The Kiss of the Muse), 1860

Painting: Paul Cézanne, The Dream of the Poet (The Kiss of the Muse), 1860

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m in fits and starts

A little bit off, and my cart’s

            ahead of the donkey. Read More…

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