Sandy Beaches? No thanks...

It's hot.  Really, really hot.  I don't like to complain about it too much, since I absolutely despise cold weather and snow, and would much rather complain about that, but man, this heat is a bit much.  I have found that my patience magically disappears in this weather and, unfortunately, so does Ben's.  We spent the majority of the morning whining and complaining to each other with a fair amount of screeching thrown in for good measure.  Fortunately for us both, Ben settled down for a morning nap and I packed up for a quick trip to the lake.

The water was nice, cooler than the air, but still warm enough to enjoy.  I'm a veteran of ocean water, but lakes, though stinky (in my opinion), offer a much more pleasant way to cool off as it doesn't numb you to your bones.  And while we had a good time, I decided I'm probably a bit of a beach snob.  I grew up going to the beach on Islesboro, where we lived.  The beach belonged to my grandfather and there really wasn't ever anybody there.  Just family and close friends.  There wasn't ever a random kid coming up to steal your shovel, and there weren't a zillion over-tanned moms laying around smoking and screaming at their kids the second they stepped out of line.  There were sand dollars to find, clams and quahogs to dig, mussels and crabs to uncover, rocks to make forts in, driftwood to build boats out of and lots and lots of freezing cold water. 

So while Ben and I were refreshed at the lake today, I found myself a bit bored just sitting in the sand.  Aside from picking milfoil out from between our toes, there really wasn't that much to do.  I think a trip to the island is overdue...