Beach, Please 2: Frisbee is Da It

Beck, Ben, Ali, Christophe and I attempted to conquer the beach with our disc-throwing. Typically, the wind was howling along the coast, making for a nutsoid upwind-downwind adventure. But we all brought our considerable skills to bear and had a grand ol' time. My good friend Jay from up in Boston used to wax poetic about the pleasantries of just playing catch with a disc; add in the sun and sand, and you've got absolute glory. Of course, there was no one around to observe said glory, so we played simply for the love if it. And for the love, Ben laid out into the ocean to catch a disc - a fantastic play - and amazingly kept everything on his head despite the jarring waves. Of course, when he shook his head to get the water out of his ears, his sunglasses went flying - prescription sunglasses - and despite our better efforts, they were lost forever to the abyss. D'oh! But seriously, 'twas a great catch.

I stubbed my toe and ended up cracking the toenail which made for an unpleasant throbbing sensation Thursday night. So the beach frisbee had a corporeal victim, too. Beck pulled her neck Wednesday, too, so we were a pair of invalids on the plane ride back - no fun. I think my toe has healed enough to play Ultimate today (which I haven't done in a week and a half now - I'm sure my Monday night team will be thrilled at my in-shape-ness), and after four days or so, Beck's neck finally seems to be getting better. Getting old rules!

To change gears entirely, we made a conscious effort to eat in as much as possible on the trip to avoid spending too much mullah. But we (and by we, I mean the rest of them) are a bunch of good cooks, so this was completely in our favor. The first night we had pasta (and wine), then hot dogs (and margaritas and wine), then burritos (and WINE!), then fish/shrimp/scallops (and wine). SPRING BREAK! We did cave and grab dinner at a nice little restaurant called Plum's on the last night - if you're ever in Beaufort, be sure to check it out. (Pronunced "Byoo-fert," btw). So a week of great dinners, and we supplemented those with ample chips, cookies, and cereal, oh lord the cereal. Again, it was a minor miracle that we sent 7 people into a grocery store and correctly predicted the amount of food we would need for the week (though to be truthful, we did head back to Publix a couple of times to grab miscellaneous items. And to swing by Sonicamericas Drive-in, YUM).

SO a lot of the trip was spent hanging and eating and snacking and the like. Malcolm managed to grab the spotlight a fair amount, and rather than do some shmarmy account, I'll just post a few pics here that indicate his over-flowing cuteness. Topics of discussion included nom, overhead lights, lemonade, and naturally, his mum, who along with his dad is doing an excellent job raising the little dude. And yes, raising sometimes = peppering his day with sarcasm in the loving way that only Sarah pulls off. (And poor Christophe - Malcolm is at that age where Mommy = The World, so he gives Christophe the "wait, you don't have milk!" treatment now and then. Fear not Christophe - 'tis a phase, and regardless, your anti-conservative liberal bias will surely seep into his beautiful brain regardless. Vote Obama, Malcolm, vote!). So yeah, PICS:

All of which demonstrates that you may think a baby would less than ideal to have on a vacation, but Malcolm greatly enhanced our days. Thanks for taking time out, homes.