Exposure.

Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand. — Mark Twain

This has been an unusually rainy summer so far, and July 4 weekend was probably the worst. Which was a shame, because all of us were looking forward to resuming one of our most beloved family traditions after a two-year absence: July 4 at my parents' beach house.

To be sure, it's changed a bit through the years, as time has taken its toll. When we first started going to the beach house in Westport, I was 15 years old, and my parents co-owned the place with their best friends, Cathy and Jim. Now I'm 55 and Cathy passed away a long time ago; Jim moved away. My sister Kerrie now co-owns the place with my parents and so many people have come and gone during that time.

Some of us handle change better than others, and Ashes has always...well, been the worst. This past week-end was no exception. She was SO looking forward to getting together with everyone on Saturday, to swim in the lake, play games, light fireworks. But the weather did not cooperate, and no one looked forward to being stuck in the tiny beach house all day, so my parents moved the date to Monday.

( Read more... )